Into the wall
by ShellyStark
Summary: "The days were long, the nights longer, and not even a swift injection of cocaine kept me entertained for long."  *Holmes stumbles through a wall and into a historic city in 2010*  Holmes/OC Now featuring Steamy goodness, murder and mayhem.
1. Down the rabbit hole

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything, but boy what would I give to stare into those big brown eyes.  
**

**A/N I know it's been done before, but it has been eating at my brain for almost a week. This is also my first go at a Sherlock Holmes fic. Be gentle with me!**

**Down the rabbit hole**

Two months, two painstakingly long months since Watson wed and left me here alone at Baker Street. The days were long, the nights longer, and not even a swift injection of cocaine kept me entertained for long. No case that came my way held any interest, even the absence of Mrs. Hudson was feeding my boredom. I sat in the same velvet lined chair day in and day out plucking at the violin, staring into nothingness.

"Mr. Holmes, I suggest you go out for a bit, breathe some clean air." Mrs. Hudson complained, setting down the tea tray.

"Is my constant plucking bothering you….._nanny_?" I stopped plucking the strings long enough for her to look my way. I held her gaze for a moment, and then continued much to her annoyance. Shaking her head she left me to my boredom. I hated to admit that blasted woman did have a point.

"I suppose a walk wouldn't be so bad." I murmured to my self, grabbing a hat and my coat I descended the 17 steps from my holdup at 221B.

I was thankful for the lack of people wandering about the cobblestone streets, it gave me less to focus on, even if my mind did need a bit of exercise. There was a man arguing with a young woman. His wife perhaps. No, she wore no ring on her finger as he did, his mistress, he must have been putting an end to their affair, as she was now chasing after his cab down the street. I had found myself walking down an abandoned alleyway, nothing but the clicks of my shoes to keep me company. In all my years here I didn't recall this place, strange, how something in such close proximity of my home was completely new to me. It led to a dead end. A solid brick wall.

"How peculiar." I said quietly examining the wall before me. It bricks seemed to be lined with some sort of shimmering dust. I cocked my head sideways and leaned in a bit closer. It seemed that the closer I got, the more the wall would shine, and it was mesmerizing. Reaching out I traced my finger along one of the lines, gasping when my felt my finger slide into the wall.

"Hmmm…..there must be some logical explanation to this." I withdrew my finger and placed both my palms onto the wall, pushing slightly. They too went inside the wall, the harder I pushed, the further they went. Withdrawing both hands I stood back and looked at the wall, still glistening in the moonlight.

"I wonder if I can't pass my entire body through, but to where does it lead." Hypnotized by the shimmering charm I placed my hands back upon the wall.

"Only one way to find out I suppose." I inhaled deeply and pushed my way through into the unknown.

Into the unknown was right. It would seem that I had not only traveled through the wall but into someplace I have never seen the likes of before. The wall was gone, in its place stood a stone wall and I was no longer in an alleyway, but on a cobblestone street. There were people dressed in the most peculiar clothing, most of the women either had on some sort of trousers or very short things that loosely resembled a dress of some sort. Their accents were American.

"American? I traveled from London to America? Impossible!" I thought to myself, yet here I was. The street was lined with shops, most of them closed, the windows full of delightful trinkets and gadgets. A pile of newspapers sat close to one of the windows.

"February 1st 2010.….2010!" I stumbled away from the window, nearly tripping over the curb.

"Defiantly Impossible, must be some kind of hoax, yes a hoax, there is no way I traveled through a wall into another country and into the future as well." I rambled as I briskly made my way down the street. A light on in a shop window caught my attention. I pushed open the door, a small bell rang as I stepped inside. It smelled heavenly, it was a bakery. The scent of coffee and baked goods filled the air.

"Sorry, I'm closed." I heard a woman's voice call.

"Hello?" I took notice to the rustling behind the counter.

"Damn pennies!" She stood up with a hand full of copper coins. I tried not to notice how wonderful she looked. Dark red hair, almost the color of cherries, grey eyes that had flecks of blue towards the centers. She too wore trousers, with a black shirt and a rustic looking necklace that trailed into the neck of her shirt. An heirloom perhaps.

"Oh hi!" She smiled, I noticed the intriguing dimple she had just below her left eye. "Sorry I thought you were another tourist. Did Kyle send you? I thought he was off tonight, but don't worry, I'll have his usual ready in a bit." I said nothing, I found myself at a loss for words.

"Are you new,? The new ones are always quiet at first."

"New?…..um….I….uhhh."

She lifted one of her eyebrows. "Are you ok?"

"Please Madame can you tell me today's date?" She looked like an honest enough person.

"February 1st."

"And the year?"

"Seriously?" A look of annoyance grew upon her face.

"Damnit woman please!" I snapped.

"Look, if Kyle sent you here for his coffee that's fine, you can even stay in character if you'd like, but don't come into my shop and harass me."

"I don't know anyone by the name of Kyle, what are you going on about."

"You're not with the ghost tours?"

**So you like? Please let me know it would mean a lot to me! I'm gonna try to get the next one up ASAP it will be in the girls point of view probably from now on. Reviews make me all mushy inside!**

**-Shelly**


	2. And into the bakery

**And Into the Bakery  
**

It was a quiet night, it usually was I managed to make enough money to keep Baker Street Bakery up and running. I began to count down my drawer and close up for the night. At 28, I had managed to fulfill my dream of owning my own shop, even if it was in the tourist filled city of St. Augustine. It took every penny I earned but I did it all on my own.

"Just great." God had gifted me with the gift of clumsiness, and I had just successfully dumped all the pennies onto the floor. The door jingled while I was down on my hands and knees scooping up the little Lincoln heads.

"Sorry, I'm closed." I hollered from behind the counter

"Hello?" I heard a man's voice, a deep English accented man's voice.

"Damn pennies!" I stood up eyeing the man standing in my shop in period clothing. He was very attractive, his dark hair was a mess under his hat, I caught a faint bit of gray at his temples, just enough to boost his sex appeal. Big beautiful brown eyes. He seemed a little lost. He must be one of Kyle's new tour guides.

"Oh hi!" I smiled brightly at him. "Sorry I thought you were another tourist. Did Kyle send you? I thought he was off tonight, but don't worry, ill have his usual ready in a bit." Kyle always sent the new recruits to get his late night peppermint mocha cappuccino.

"Are you new? The new ones are always quiet at first." Attempting to make small talk with my handsome stranger.

"New?…..um….I….uhhh."

"Are you ok?" I asked raising one eyebrow.

"Please madam can you tell me today's date?"

"February 1st."

"And the year?"

"Seriously?" Was he toying with me?

"Damnit woman please!"

Geez, I knew Kyle liked his guides to play the part, but he didn't have to yell at me. "Look, if Kyle sent you here for his coffee that's fine, you can even stay in character if you'd like, but don't come into my shop and harass me." I shouted, spilling milk all over the floor.

He looked confused.

"I don't know anyone by the name of Kyle, what are you going on about."

"You're not with the ghost tours?"

"The what?"

"Ghost tours…..you know tourists come all this way to pay crazy amounts of money to hear about haunted St. Augustine." Did he really not know what I was talking about? He looked genuinely lost and confused, I felt bad for yelling at him. I grabbed a few towels from the closet to wipe up the milk, only to slip in it when I came back to the counter. My handsome stranger rushed to my side and helped me to my feet.

"You my dear are quite inept." He said quietly, giving me a lopsided grin.

"2010."

"Hmmm?"

"The year. The year is 2010."

His look saddened.

"Hey….are you alright."

"I'm going to tell you something, and I would appreciate it you didn't mock me."

"Ok….." What was he going on about, did he have amnesia or something.

"I came here through a wall….."

"A wall?" I turned my head sideways and scrunched up my nose.

"Yes. Now please let me finish. I physically passed through a wall, from my world to yours."

"And what exactly is your world?" This guy was nuts. Cute, but nuts.

"London."

"That's not exactly a world, it's a city."

He sighed and looked away.

"London…..1893."

"NO WAY! You're joking right."

"Certainly not madam. Do I look as if I am joking?"

He didn't, he still looked lost and now a little afraid.

"I'm sorry…..so really a wall, you walked through a wall?"

"Yes. I was hypnotized by the light it was reflecting. When my hands sunk into it I became curious and pushed my body through."

"Huh….just like Alice." I thought aloud.

"That's a children's story." He murmured.

"And a classic." That confused him. "Well it will be…..or it is now…..I can't believe I'm discussing this with you. You sir are a very good actor, but I need to finish up here so if you don't mind…." I began to steer him towards the door.

"Wait please you have to believe me…" He grabbed my arm and locked those chocolate eyes onto mine "I know nothing of this place, this is completely new to me, this feeling of being lost and although I hate to admit it a bit scared."

I don't know what I was thinking, I was about to do something no girl in her right mind would ever do. I sighed, hoping I wasn't making a huge mistake.

"Alright look, I have an apartment upstairs, you can stay with me until you get your self situated. As for the whole wall travel thing…..I'll do my best to understand."

For the first time I saw a flicker of happiness in his eyes.

"I appreciate that…very much. Thank you Ms…."

"Right sorry, Samantha, my name is Samantha, most people just call me Sammy."

"Thank you Ms. Samantha."

I chuckled at his use of the Ms. before my name.

"You can drop the Ms."

"Whatever you would like my dear."

I had to admit he was very gentlemanly, and polite, there weren't many guys like that around anymore. I thought as we climbed the stairs to my apartment. He certainly did look the as if he belonged in Victorian London, what if he was telling the truth. How would I feel if I was lost in some strange world with no one to turn to, no one that would believe me.

"Most interesting." He mumbled, running his fingers over the numbers beside my door.

"What, my address?" 221b was the number of my upstairs home, 221a being the bakery, that's why I chose Baker Street Bakery for the name of my little shop.

"Yes…..It's the same as mine. The number anyway."

"Oh is that so! Well nice to meet you Mr. Sherlock Holmes." I said sarcastically, pushing my door open and letting him in.

"Nice to meet you too Samantha." He said completely serious. "But I don't recall telling you my name."

"Wait what!"

**A/N Ok so this is totally writing itself, I didn't think I would enjoy writing Sherlock as much as I do! Thank you so much to RomanceDoneWrite for reading and reviewing as quickly as you did. **

**Your reviews feed my mind, and make me smile! So show some love! Please?**

**-Shelly**


	3. A very long night indeed

**A very long night indeed**

"Wait what!" I gawked at my handsome stranger, and possible fictional character, as he strolled into my apartment with his hands rested behind his back.

"My name dear. You have mentioned my name, yet I had failed to give it to you." He stopped at my bookshelf admiring my collection of well loved books, running his hands up and down some of the spines.

"Your name is not Sherlock Holmes." I watched as his hand stopped on my ancient copy of _The Sign of the Four. _I had found a pirated copy of the book at a yard sale, and after having it looked at by a local antiquarian book dealer I learned it was from the late 1800's. "Don't touch! That book is very old, and very dear to me."

"My name most certainly is Sherlock Holmes, but what interests me more is where you would procure a book about the sign of four."

"You are not Sherlock Holmes because he is in fact a character in a book…THAT BOOK!" I said gesturing to the slightly out of place book on my shelf "As well as the many others you'll probably find scattered on that shelf." I ran my hands through my curly red hair and pinched the bridge of my nose. This man was clearly insane. I was beginning to think I made a mistake by taking him in. He came close to me and leaned in inches from my face, keeping his hands respectively behind his back.

"Do I look like a fictional character to you madam?" He growled

"As a matter of fact you do _Mr. Holmes._"

"I am of flesh and blood no?"

I poked his shoulder, earning a smirk from the arguably fictional detective.

"Obviously….but I still say you are in no way Sherlock Holmes."

He stepped back allowing me to have back my personal space. His eyes narrowed as he looked at me. What was he doing, his dark eyes were penetrating my space, even if his body no longer was. I just stood there as they moved slowly up and down my body. A one-sided smile slowly spread across his face.

"There is a cane leaned against the corner of your bookshelf, a visitor would assume it belonged to a beloved family member, but your slight limp and awkwardness while climbing the stairs suggest otherwise. The dust upon the handle would suggest that you don't take use of it often, you are much too young and proud to let yourself be dependent on it. The chain that leads beneath your top holds something that is of great importance to you, even with various attempts of cleaning its age is clearly seen, a family heirloom perhaps, given to you by the one who raised you. Your mother…..no your grandmother, who took you in while you were rather young, feeding your love for things that hold age. Like the musky smell of an old book for example."

A silent tear crept down my cheek at the mention of my grandmother.

"Satisfied madam?"

I fingered the pendant that rested below my shirt.

"She gave it to me before she died." I pulled the simple carved amber cameo flower set in sterling silver and ran my thumb across its smooth surface. "I miss her so much." I slumped down into my oversized recliner and sobbed softly into the dark fabric. I felt his warm hand land on my shoulder.

"There there dear, I didn't mean to upset you, I was only trying to prove to you my existence."

I wiped the tears from my face and looked into his warm eyes. They held an honesty in them, perhaps he was telling the truth, and if he was he would need someone to rely on in this strange new world.

"So…..Sherlock?…I need a drink." I rummaged in the kitchen pantry until I found my private stock stash. Tugging out the cork I took a long swig from the bottle.

"You believe me then?" Following me into the kitchen, eyeing the bottle on my lips.

"I suppose." I replied, taking another drink from the bottle, before offering it to him.

"Not my drug of choice."

"I know…..and there will be none of that while you are here!"

"How do you?…"He asked me with wide eyes.

"Books. Remember. If you are in fact Sherlock Holmes, you reside in 221B Baker Street, with your colleague and friend Dr. John Watson until he marries, and who doesn't exactly approve of your cocaine and morphine usage."

"Fascinating…..I never would have thought my life would be put into the pages stories to entertain others and so far into the future no less."

"And I never thought Sherlock Holmes would be standing in my kitchen."

"Yet here I am." He grinned taking the bottle from my hand.

"Here you are indeed."

**OK ok, I know Watson gets married in 1887 in the books, but the movie is set in 1890 and they still haven't married yet so for fan fiction's sake I created my own dates. I think I like where this is going, and I do hope Samantha is likeable, I sure like her :D**

**Do what you do best, read and review, make me swoon!**

**-Shelly**

**P.S while I don't own an old copy of **_**The Sign of **_**Four I do have a first edition of **_**The Return of Sherlock Holmes.**_** Pretty cool huh?**


	4. Unorganized chaos

**A/N Thank you so much to the amazing few who have reviewed, I keep going for you.!**

**Unorganized chaos**

Spending the night sharing a bottle of rum with a fictional detective, who turned out to be not so fictional, probably wasn't such a good idea.

"How can such an intriguing woman such as yourself enjoy this horrid drink?" Sherlock asked me sprawled atop my kitchen table head rested on his arm and his eyes glassy.

"You think I'm intriguing Sherlock?" I could feel the familiar drunken heat on my cheeks while I lied on the cool kitchen tile to the side of the table looking up at him.

"Quite." He replied closing his eyes and sighing.

"How so?"

I got no reply. I reached out and tugged on the leg of his pants. "Come on now, you can't leave a girl hanging."

No answer, just soft snores flowing down from my table top. There was no point in waking him, I was sure he could find a more comfortable place to sleep if needed be.

How wrong I was.

I was woken up at 7am to disastrous sounds coming from the kitchen.

"What the hell is going on in here?" Sherlock was standing in the middle of my kitchen suspenders hanging by his sides, and was that peanut butter in his hair?

"Good morning my dear, I was just…ahhh….experimenting with your delightful food items." He had an innocent smile on his face when he licked some peanut butter off of his fingers. "This is absolutely delightful."

I looked in horror at the various crumbs and piles of food scattered all over the kitchen. Potato chips, bread, strawberries, cookies, vegetable dip, and sadly enough to top it all off, the remainder of my Oreos.

"My god, you have successfully destroyed my kitchen." I managed to find a piece of bread underneath the rubble that was still slightly on the soft side and attempted to push it into the toaster. When the bread wouldn't go in I tilted it slightly and peeked inside.

"Seriously? Why on earth is there peanut butter in my toaster?"

"Hmm…well….I…..uh…ahem." He looked around the room and scooped up an Oreo off the table. "These are extraordinary." He mumbled, popping one into his mouth.

I couldn't help but laugh. He was like a kid in a candy shop, beaming with each new item he passed through his lips.

"You Mr. Holmes, are going to help me clean up this god awful mess, and then we need to go get you some new clothes."

"What is the matter with my clothing?"

"Nothing, I just think you should at least try to blend in until we can figure out a way to get you back."

"Right, I suppose that I should, but what of your shop?"

"I'll call Kyle, he can cover me a few hours." I said beginning to sweep the crumbs from the counter into the trash.

"You've mentioned this Kyle before."

"Yes, he's a good friend of mine, has been for almost 20 years."

"I see." He wiped the Oreo crumbs off the table and swept up what remained on the floor.

"Ok, you need to take a shower, can I trust you not to destroy my bathroom?"

"Certainly, it is rather similar to ones I have come across before."

"Great." I said flatly, turning to leave the kitchen and call Kyle.

"Samantha?" It was only the third time he had said my name, but there was an intimacy in his voice that sent mild chills through my body. I turned my head over my shoulder, our eyes met for a moment and we stood in silence. I looked into his chocolate pools for what seemed like an eternity, until he looked away towards the window.

"I am very regretful for making a disaster of your dining area."

"It's ok….I suppose…..just don't do it again." He turned back to me and nodded before heading to the bathroom.

"Make sure you get that peanut butter out of your hair." I called after him.

"I had planned on it." He grinned widely before shutting the door.

**That silly Sherlock! I want him to dress casual, but keep the waistcoat…I'm a sucker for a guy in a waistcoat, is that odd. Show me love! And I'll love you back!**

**-Shelly**


	5. Bohemian chic

**I decided that from time to time I do enjoy being inside Sherlock's head, so you see that name down there in parentheses? That's whose POV you will be in. ENJOY!**

**Bohemian chic**

_**(Samantha)**_

I made the quick call to Kyle, waking him in the process, got dressed in a pair of dark jeans and a tank top and waited patiently for Sherlock to emerge from his shower.

He had said I was intriguing. I have been called many things; personable, clumsy, cheery, hell even pretty, but not once had someone ever said I was intriguing. I had to admit I enjoyed his company last night,

"_I must admit it is strange to find myself in a place in which someone knows all about me, and I know so little about them."_ I had let the sweet burn of the alcohol go a little too far which resulted in me tripping over the rug and crawling about the floor.

"_You…are perfectly capable of learning what you need to know by simply looking at me."_

"_Only if you stop crawling about the floor and hold still….do you need assistance getting to your feat dear."_ I crawled over to the space in front of his chair.

"_I think I'll stay here thanks." _I lied flat on my back, letting the cool floor cool my body temperature.

"_Hmmm….How can such an intriguing woman such as yourself enjoy this horrid drink?" _

So Sherlock Holmes found me intriguing and I found this little fact very interesting.

"Well….now that I am felling quite refreshed, shall we be going?"

His mesmerizing deep tone pulled me from my memories. I straightened my self up and turned to face him. He looked clean and crisp, much better than he did when he stumbled into my little bakery. He dressed back into his pants shirt and waistcoat, but had opted to leave off his cravat and jacket.

"Will this do for our outing, or should I loose the waistcoat."

I was a total sucker for a guy and a waistcoat and I wasn't about to let this opportunity pass me by.

"Leave it…..it suits you." I looked down the minute the words left my lips, blushing a deep shade of pink.

"Hmmm…..you think so." His eyes met mine and this time neither of us looked away.

"Yea…..it uh…it looks…" I was stumbling over my words as he took a step closer.

"Go on…it looks…..what?" He took another step barely a foot in front of me, he reached up and traced a line from my shoulder to the inside of my elbow. My breath hitched and his increased as the jolts of electricity flowed through my body.

"It looks….." It was my turn to step, I didn't touch him, I only watched as his eyes grew darker by the second.

"C'mon Sammy lets go!" Kyle banged on the door causing Sherlock to quickly back off, clearing his throat and locking his hands behind his back.

"Be down in a second Kyle." I called through the door. "We should go then" I said turning to Sherlock, who was refusing to look my way.

"Right."

"Ok." I whispered. Gathering up my wallet and keys I went to open the door, hearing Sherlock come up behind me.

"I'm sorry Samantha…..it was not my intentions to make you….uncomfortable."

"Forget about it." I retorted, probably a little colder than necessary.

"That will be unlikely, as I said, you….my dear…are quite intriguing." His face was relaxed and calm, yet lacked any clear emotion. What the hell was going on in that head of his. Pulling open the door I shooed him out before me.

"And you _Mr. Holmes_ can be quite confusing." I mumbled, causing the corners of his lips twitch up.

_**(Holmes)**_

I couldn't help but notice that there were 17 steps down the stairs and into her shop. I smiled to myself, same as the steps back on Baker Street. There was a considerable larger amount of people on the street this time of day, many of them with what I took to be cameras of this time, much smaller and less complicated just like most things here. There were carriages traveling up and down the street, as well as a much more fascinating form of transportation.

I felt the light touch of a small hand on my back.

Samantha. She was in fact very intriguing, how was it that in one single night someone could send such a wave of emotions through me, and a woman no less. Women were distractions, they keep you from work, lure you in with their sweet and condescending ways. She was different, genuinely caring and kind, believing me even though I had little to prove myself.

"Sherlock?"

"Hmmm?"

"I need to get in the door."

I had not noticed that I was indeed blocking the entrance to her bakery. "Right….sorry." Stepping off the curb I noticed the sign above the door. _Baker Street Bakery_ I had looked back towards the street, a wooden post read _Cordova_. I chuckled.

She noticed where my eyes had landed.

"You like that huh?"

"It suits you madam, right down to the number outside your door."

"And the steps." She smiled, the middles of her gray eyes changing to a pleasant blue. Of course she would know about the steps.

"It would appear so."

"Come on in for a minute, I gotta give Kyle the run down."

"Hey sweet pea!" There was a man behind the counter, tall, light brown hair, green eyes, maybe 3 or 4 years her senior. His eyes narrowed as he glanced at me in a disapproving manner.

"So this is…..?"

"A friend." She told him in that bright and cheery tone I enjoyed listening to so much.

"Sammy….he looks like he could be one of my guides." He said to her in a hushed voice.

"Hence the need to find him some clothes….look it's a long story. It's Tuesday so it shouldn't be to busy during the day, coffee is in the pantry, only keep the carafe half full until it picks up….."

"This isn't my first go at this Sammy stop worrying."

Her tone with him was informative, not worrisome, she was only leaving him instructions, and you would think someone who she had known for quite some time would know that.

"Thank you Kyle." She pushed up on her toes and embraced him. It shouldn't have affected me, yet it had caused something inside my chest to flip about. Now what on earth could that have been.

She turned her attention back to me.

"Ready?"

"Mmmm." I nodded smiling at her softly. I pulled open the door as she approached. "After you my dear."

"Thank you." She whispered before walking out of the door.

_**(Samantha)**_

I couldn't help but laugh as Sherlock took in the streets around him.

"You'll get used to it." "Tell me. If you have these fascinating modes of transportation, why do you still need the usage of a horse and carriage?" He didn't look confused, just interested.

"We don't…..it's a tourist attraction….people come here on vacation wanting to experience things the way they were once upon a time."

"I see…..so we will be taking….."

"I have a car."

"Car…..right."

He was quiet, from the moment we got into my old VW bug until we reached the store.

"I much prefer this method of traveling." He said as we pulled into a parking space.

"I figured you would." I laughed. "Now let's get you some clothes."

I ushered him into a dressing room and began to collect things to toss over the door. Dark jeans, a few button down shirts, some vintage T's, I even tossed in a waistcoat or two….or three.

"I don't see the reasoning in all of these." I heard him mumble from behind the door.

"Just try them on." I called, before tossing a few more items over the door frame. He opened the door, dressed in a dark pair of jeans, light blue button down, and black waistcoat. He looked fantastic, modern, but still held on to the things that made him Sherlock Holmes.

"Will this do then?"

I cleared my throat. "Yes…umm…it's…."

He arched an eyebrow at my familiar stumbling.

"It's what exactly?"

"You look great." I spat out, promptly turning red. A large grin spread across his face.

"You really think so?" He asked, his grin growing impossibly wider. "I could perhaps…" He went to undo the buttons on the waistcoat.

"Leave it…." His eyebrows rose once again. "Like I said….It suits you."

**A/N A little longer for you! Though not by much. Did you enjoy that little bet of sexual tension….I know I did. I love it when you show me love!**

**-Shelly**


	6. Closed doors

**Closed Doors**

"Are you going to destroy the place if I leave?" I was on my way to relieve Kyle after our successful shopping spree, which included refilling my pantry. Sherlock was sitting in my oversized suede recliner flipping through one of my Poe books.

"I assure you madam, your home will be in one piece when you return."

"Let's hope so. Stay away from anything with your name on it." I said, gazing at the bookshelf. "No use spoiling your future."

"What do you mean by that?" He looked interested, placing the book down beside him.

"You said it was 1893."

"Indeed."

"Some of those books weren't published until after 1903."

"Is that so?" He leaned forward and placed the tips of his fingers together. "How interesting…but if I am here, shouldn't the later dated pages be empty?"

"I already thought about that." It was true, the thought had crossed my mind a few times. "All the pages are still full. Obviously you get home somehow."

"And if the ink disappears?"

"Then we have a problem."

"Indeed."

"I'll be downstairs if you need anything." He nodded in agreement sinking back into the chair and deep into thought.

"Thank god!" Kyle greeted me as I entered the shop.

"That bad huh?"

"There was an after lunch rush, other than that it was dead as a door nail." He pulled off his cupcake bearing apron and tossed it on the counter.

"That's how it goes." I replied placing a pan of peanut butter cookies in the oven.

"So…how's you're…uh…friend?" He asked, feeling the need to use air quotes.

"Fine." I held a flat tone.

"Just fine?" Kyle arched an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest.

"What else would he be Kyle?" Why did he care?

"I don't know. Where did he come from anyway? I've never seen him around before."

"What's with the twenty questions? Don't you have to get to work?" I said sharply, he was getting on my nerves.

"I was just curious Sam. You don't have to get defensive." He sighed. "I guess I better go."

He looked like a scolded puppy as he shuffled towards the door.

"Look Kyle, it's complicated. I'll talk to you later ok?

He waved a hand over his head and walked out without a word.

Most of my books were piled on the floor when I trotted through the door. Sherlock was sprawled out over the couch, a copy of _Alice's adventures in wonderland_ lay open on his chest. I laughed lightly to myself.

"At least nothing is destroyed." I reached down to lift the book from its resting place. He hand shot up and quickly wrapped around my wrist. He looked around for a moment, eyes wide, before his look came back to me.

"So sorry dear, I seemed to have forgotten my place for a moment." He still held my wrist in his hand.

"Sherlock…?"

"Hmm?"

"You can let go now." I whispered grinning down at him.

"Yes, yes of course." Dropping my wrist and taking the book from my hand.

"I had fully intended to put your bookshelf back in order when I was finished." He said already scooping up some of the books off the floor. I noticed a few of my photo albums had managed to end up in his piles on the floor.

"Learn anything rummaging through my belongings?" I smirked, placing them back in their rightful spot on the bottom shelf.

"Naturally….You have a younger brother, whom you are close to, but I don't believe you have spoken to him in some time. You have also spent a decent amount of your childhood in the hospital." I took notice to the amusement in his voice.

"I was a regular there you know, broke 12 bones in the span of 8 years." I grinned.

"Somehow madam that does not surprise me at all."

Sherlock's muttering and pacing was keeping me from getting any sleep. Frustrated and tired I threw back the covers and padded out into the living room.

"You are aware that most people are sleeping right about now right?" This was the third time I had come out of my room trying to get him to settle down. "It is 2am Holmes, I have to start baking in three hours and….." I noticed the bottle of rum sitting on the end table. "Are you drinking now?"

"You made it perfectly clear there was to be none of my usual _habits_ while I am here." He was standing at the window, looking out at the dimly lit city.

"What is keeping you up anyway?" I gave in, slumping down onto the couch. I saw a spark in his eyes as he turned his attention to me.

"Clearly it is a doorway."

"What is?"

"The wall my dear, the wall is a doorway."

I yawned and stretched my arms above my head. "I suppose, but it's closed now."

"That is true, but we only need to find a way to open it." He began "When Alice fell down into the rabbit hole she opened a door."

"Seriously Sherlock? That is a children's book. You said so yourself."

"In fact I did, it is also true that Alice is a character in a book, just as I am and clearly madam I exist.

"Fine." I groaned rubbing my hands over my face. "Continue."

He joined his hands together in front of his body. "Right….Alice Falls into the rabbit hole ending up in a whole different world, only to wake up and realize it was all just a dream."

"So you think your dreaming, that would mean I am just a dream. I would hope to think I am not just a dream."

"I do not believe so. You see Alice goes back." He said sitting next to me, looking directly into my eyes. "She successfully travels between two different worlds twice."

"We already discussed this. She was dreaming, both times. In both books she wakes up and realizes it was all just a dream."

"Precisely. That is how she managed to do it….both times the dreams acted as her doorway."

"So what is yours? What is your doorway?"

"I haven't the slightest idea." He jumped up off the couch. "Would you like some tea? I do believe I have mastered the use of your stove."

"No. What I would like is some sleep!" I grumbled rubbing my eyes.

"Of course dear, I shall try to keep quiet now so you can rest.

"Thank you."

I had just gotten nice and cozy underneath my green down blanket feeling sleep coming to carry me away. Nothing ever goes my way. I heard a crash, which assumed were at least 3 coffee mugs falling to the floor. I buried my head into my pillow and screamed.

"Sorry!" I heard him call from the kitchen. I think I'm going to start slipping him sleeping pills.

**A/N This is a bit of a filler, but I hoped you enjoyed it just the same. Thanks for reading, and thanks to my peeps that review and put me on their alert list. I love you all. Now make me happy and show me some more love!**

**-Shelly**


	7. Words are overrated

**Words are overrated**

After a grand total of 2 hours of sleep, I reluctantly dragged my half dead body out of bed. Pulling on a rough pair of jeans and whatever shirt was lying around, I grabbed my keys and went to start my early morning baking. I didn't make it very far, tripping over Sherlock's body in the middle of my living room. He wasn't very nice in the mornings and neither was I.

"My god woman! You must watch where you are walking."

"You Mr. Holmes should find somewhere to sleep that is out of my way!"

"I was quite comfortable here madam, until you disturbed me."

"I swear to god Holmes, I'm going to push you back into that wall if whether it's open or not!" I used his ribcage to push me up off the floor.

"Was it really necessary to use me as a prop, or did you enjoy giving me that bit of discomfort?"

"Both! And clean up this mess!" Slamming the door as I left.

"That pompous ass, he is going to drive me insane!" I grumbled, pulling trays out of the oven. "Who in their right mind is more comfortable on the floor?…..How can I forget, his mind is not right at all!…..OW!"

I had succeeded in burning myself for the 5th time that morning, the hot pan coming into contact with my lower arm. This is how my morning went, three fun filled hours of baking, burning, and complaining about the thorn in my side that was Sherlock Holmes.

I heard the familiar jingle sound from the door.

"I'm not open yet!" I called making my way from the back. I really need to start locking the door behind me. As luck would have it the jingle was caused by none other than said thorn.

"I'm not talking to you." I spun on my heel and went back to my ovens.

"I couldn't go back to sleep." He said, following me "It really does smell lovely in here."

Why couldn't he just be quiet? His presence was distracting me, despite the fact I was hugely annoyed at him I found myself dangerously drawn to him.

"You do all of this by yourself?….Impressive, the amount of time you must spend…..mmmpph" I shoved a cranberry muffin into his mouth, successfully shutting him up.

For a moment.

"Oh my…..that my dear is wonderful."

"Thanks. But I'm still not talking to you."

"Come now dear, you can't ignore me forever. I got the impression that you quite enjoyed my company."

I glared at him before switching on the coffee pot.

"Are you honestly not going to say anything?"

I continued to ignore him by keeping myself busy. Filling napkins, cleaning tables, replacing sugar, anything to keep me away from him.

"Samantha?" His tone was quiet now, more…intimate. God I hated it when he said my name like that. Nobody calls me Samantha, I never liked my full name but every time he uttered it chills went down my spine.

Good chills.

I had to pass him to get back behind the counter, I could feel his eyes burning into me as I went to brush past him. He placed a hand on my shoulder causing me to turn.

"What!" I barked.

He stood there for a moment, just watching, waiting for me to walk away. I wasn't going anywhere, I couldn't. Not with the way he was staring into me.

Quickly he brought his lips down to mine. The chills quickly turned to fire, burning me from the inside out. The shock of what had happened made me go still.

He pulled away.

"I'm sorry… I shouldn't have….."

I cut him off again and not with baked goods.

I pulled him down by the sides of his waistcoat eager to get those soft lips back onto mine. He brought his hand up to the back of my head massaging it lightly, earning a soft moan of approval, only making him pull me tighter against him.

The door jingled again.

"Hey Sammy I just….." Kyle stood in the doorway with his mouth hanging open. "I'll just come back later." He mumbled turning a bright shade of red.

Sherlock quickly pulled away.

"That's alright my boy…" He gazed into my eyes once more. "I was just leaving."

I gave him a sweet smile and nodded before he walked out.

"What was that Sam?" Kyle asked, clearly annoyed that he just busted me sharing face with someone I had known for only three days.

"That was…unexpected." I was still dazed, staring out the shop window into the stairwell that led up to my apartment.

"Out with it now! No more hush hush mystery man." He sat down at a table with the attentions of not leaving until I said something.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you Kyle."

"Sammy" he grinned "I tell ghost stories about the nations oldest city for a living….try me."

"Let me get your coffee first." I turned my attention away from the window and busied myself with Kyle's peppermint mocha cappuccino.

"Are you going to tell me he's an alien or something?"

"He's something alright." I said placing his cup down and sitting across from him. "Don't laugh ok?"

"I'll try." He smirked.

I took a deep breath. "Alright you know the story of Alice in wonderland?"

"Yea, girl falls down a hole into some other world and whatnot….did he fall through a rabbit hole?" He said raising an eyebrow "because that Sammy would be ridiculous."

"Not a hole….a wall….he came through a wall."

Kyle doubled over clutching his sides as he rolled with laughter.

"Oh god Sammy, that's classic!" He continued to laugh. "Is that why he looks like he stepped out of the 1800's? You are a riot!" He noticed the stern look on my face. "Oh geez your serious aren't you. You actually believe that!"

"I can't explain why, but yes I do, and I would appreciate it if my best friend would back me up on this."

"Alright, alright, for your sake I'll entertain the thought….So does he have a name?"

"Holmes." I muttered barley loud enough for him to hear.

"What? Did you say Holmes? As in Sherlock Holmes?" The laughter building up inside him again, I sheepishly looked to the floor.

"You're too much Sam." He laughed. "I gotta go. Just wanted to stop in and say hey."

"Goodbye Kyle." I muttered still looking down at the floor. He was still laughing when the door closed behind him.

Sherlock grinned widely when I came back home that night. The apartment was surprisingly neat, not a book out of place or a broken mug to be seen.

"What did you do?" I asked accusingly

"Not a thing I assure you." He said still grinning, sitting in my chair that he had grown so fond of.

"So why do you look so smug?"

"What happened this morning was a shock to me."

"No kidding!" I laughed. "But it was….nice." I said blushing deeply.

"Quite." He beamed causing his eyes to crinkle in the corners. I leaned against the arm of the chair.

"Intriguing?" I asked smiling slightly.

"You have no idea madam." He noticed the burn marks up and down my arms. "You've burnt yourself."

"I have."

He traced the marks lightly with his thumbs. "Because you were upset?"

"Well that mixed with my clumsiness didn't blend well."

He placed a small kiss to one of the burns. "I'll sleep on the couch, no need to feed your ineptness."

"I do have a spare room you know, with a real bed." I grinned.

"Your couch will suffice for now." He was back to tracing the marks on my arms. A million things were going through my mind, the main one being that this could not happen, even if I wanted it to. He would have to go back soon or a later and the less painful for me the better. And I did want it, so much, it was impossible to feel so attached to someone after only just three days.

Then again it was also impossible to walk through walls.

"I'm going to go to bed." I said softly, not wanting to get tangled up into him again.

"Did I upset you?"

"No." I smiled, placing my hand on his arm, letting it linger for a moment. "I'm just tired."

"Goodnight then Samantha." He whispered, getting up and placing a quick kiss to my forehead before heading to the door.

"Where are you going?"

"Just for a walk dear, clear my head. I don't want to keep you from sleeping."

"Oh….thanks."

"You are most welcome."

I could hear him whistling all the way to the bottom of the stairs.

"Oh god Sam, what have you gotten yourself into."

**A/N Arrgghh I sooo wanted to wait longer for them to get to this point but even I didn't want to wait anymore. I made it extra long and extra fluffy for a certain special person (you know who you are, my wonderful FF buddy!) Hope you guys enjoyed! Show the love!**

**-Shelly!**


	8. Curiouser and curiouser

_**Curiouser and curiouser**_

_**(Samantha)**_

I found him passed out on the couch, at least it wasn't the floor, with both of my Alice books on the floor. The idea of Alice actually existing was pretty farfetched, but it was all he had to go on and I wasn't about to destroy his high hopes of getting home. I would miss him though, more than I would like to admit. I smiled sadly as I watched him snore softly with a stuffed pig tucked behind his head as a pillow. I couldn't resist the urge to push that unruly hair from his forehead. His eyes closed even tighter before he opened them. God I'm such an idiot, I should have known he would wake up, even the tiny squeak of a floorboard would wake him.

He eyed me curiously.

"Something the matter madam?"

I shook my head no.

"Hmm…your face says yes." He gently tucked a strand of stray hair behind my ear.

"It's nothing." I said quickly moving away from the couch. "I'll put on some tea."

"Doesn't your shop need tending to?" He sat up running his hands through his hair and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Not today, Hannah is back from visiting her parents."

He grinned "So you do have help then?"

"I do." I laughed "She is my lifesaver, I'd go crazy if I had to do everything alone. If it wasn't for Kyle I would have fallen apart this week."

His eyes narrowed at the mention of Kyle's name. "Did you explain my predicament to him?"

"Yea, that went over real well." I scoffed handing him a mug.

"He didn't believe you then."

"It doesn't matter….so what would you like to do today?"

"I quite enjoyed my walk last night, perhaps you could join me on one today?"

"If you'd like." I smiled "but I would like to stop and see how Hannah is doing fist."

"Of course madam."

"SAMMY!" She practically tackled me before I even got the door all the way open. "I wasn't expecting to actually see you on my first day back, figured you'd be in bed all day….ooooh who's this." She quickly went to stand in front of Sherlock "Hi! I'm Hannah, I help Sammy run the place so she doesn't loose her marbles." He held out her hand to him. Sherlock shook it gently. "Well hello dear. My name is Sherlock…." I cleared my throat loudly.

"Like Sherlock Holmes…how cool is that, your parents must have been big fans." She went on.

His eyes darted over to mine, I nodded my head and mouthed to him "say something"

"Umm…yes…they told me once if I had a brother they would name him Watson."

I buried my head in my hands.

"So Hannah how's your mom and dad?" I asked, desperate to change the subject.

"Oh you know same as the last time I saw them." She grabbed hold my arm and pulled me into a corner. "He's cute Sam, really cute."

I glanced his way. His hands in his pockets looking up at the ceiling.

"Are you two….you know?" She asked her eyes wide and excited.

"It's complicated."

Sherlock was now watching us curious and amused.

"Go on now, get out of here, I don't want to see you in here for at least two days." She shooed me out the door.

"Well now, she seems to have a large amount of energy." Sherlock smirked, sticking his arm to me. I looked at him for a moment before linking my arm through his.

"Yep, and I wouldn't have it any other way."

_**(Holmes)**_

We spent the entire day walking around her quaint city, she even convinced me to go on some blasted _red train_ adventure, filled with people and their knapsacks full of trinkets to take home to their loved ones. And I had actually found myself having a good time, learning about her home.

What on earth was I doing? Toying around with this woman. I Sherlock Holmes did not make it a habit to be in the company of women and I most certainly did not befriend them. She could hold her ground that was for sure, she wasn't afraid to speak her mind. I found us standing in front of the wall I had passed through just days earlier.

"You wanna check it out?" Samantha asked me, taking a step in that direction.

"We should….just in case."

There was nothing abnormal about it, just an ordinary stone wall. I reached out and ran my hand down its cool surface. Cold and hard, just as a wall should be. She noticed the solemn look on my face.

"We'll figure it out, we'll get you back to Watson, Lestrade, and Irene."

My head snapped up at the mention of the woman's name.

"Touchy subject?" She asked facing the wall, purposely not looking at me.

"What do you know of Ms. Adler."

"You forget how much I know of you _Mr. Holmes_, she was never mentioned much but you clearly had a soft spot for her." She looked sad, why on earth did she look sad. Irene and I had our moments yes, but that was over now, she was gone, and supposedly happy.

"I have not seen the good doctor since he was married. As for Ms. Adler….well she left long before that."

She finally looked at me, with one eyebrow raised and a lopsided smile on her face.

"She always comes back…but you knew that already."

As alluring as Samantha was she sure knew how to pick her battles. Was she jealous, why on earth would she be, yes I had kissed her, and yes I found my self growing fond of her despite everything in my self-conscious telling me not to, but in the end I would return, and yes most likely _Ms. Adler _would turn up sooner or later.

"This bothers you doesn't it." I did not want to make her angry, even if anger was appealing on her, I was simply curious.

"It shouldn't." She was looking away again.

"But it does." Her eyes were still turned away from me.

"Yes…" She unhooked her harm from mine and finally turned to face me, struggling to keep her composure. "I'm not stupid, I know that you will go back to where you belong, and I will go back to living my exciting life getting buried under a dusty book collection. I also know that what ever this" she motioned between the two of us "what ever this is can not happen."

This came as a shock, was she admitting she had felt something towards me?

"Bud you'd like it to?" I asked leaning towards her to get a better look into her gray eyes.

"It can't" She whispered "but yes I would have." She turned and started to walk away, I grasped her hand.

"Samantha…"

"Please Sherlock…I just want to go home now." I released her, and watched her walk away in silence.

_**(Samantha)**_

"I thought I told you not…oh Sammy what's wrong?" Hannah pulled me into a hug as I sulked through the door.

"I am such an idiot!" I cried "falling for someone I who doesn't even belong here!"

"Now, now Sam….wait, why doesn't he belong here."

"Forget it, I don't need another person to laugh at me." I wiped my eyes "busy tonight?"

Hannah crossed her arms over her chest. "First of all I would never laugh at you, and secondly don't change the subject…Now why doesn't Mr. not so tall, and handsome belong here?"

I told her all about where and when he came from, the wall, his ideas about Alice.

She sat still and listened to every word.

"So he really is Sherlock Holmes?" She grinned when I had stopped talking.

"You believe me?" My eyes went wide.

"Why not? Sometimes things happen, and there is just no explaining them… and you can't help your feelings either Sammy, the heart knows what it wants."

"Thanks Hannah."

"For…?"

"Believing."

"That's what friends are for. Now let's close this beast and…"

Kyle burst through the door, dressed in his full period ghost tour garb and out of breath.

"Sam!…I'm sorry…I know…that I said….I didn't…" He had me by the shoulders his green eyes nearly popping out of his head.

"Kyle breathe."

"What's going on?" Hannah asked him.

He finally managed to catch his breath.

"I know I laughed at you and I'm sorry."

I rolled my eyes and tried to move.

"Listen to me Samantha!" He never once in our very long friendship had used my full name. "You know that crazy lady Gretchen that wanders around town?"

"Yea…"

"I ran into her tonight….your not going to believe this."

**A/N Oohhh what's up with crazy lady Gretchen…You want to know? SHOW ME LOVE! **

**Oh please, you'll find out anyway, because I love you all!**

**-Shelly**


	9. Silver lining

**I apologize in advance...It wouldnt let me format it the way I wanted it to be...so sorry if it jumbles togeather in places.**

**Silver lining**

"You actually had a conversation with her?" I asked Kyle who still had hold of my shoulders. Nobody talks to Gretchen. Gretchen had a habit of talking to herself.

"Well….she overheard me talking with some of my guys after work." Kyle looked guiltily to the floor.

"Let me guess, you were poking fun at me." He refused to answer. I ducked my head down and swiftly came loose from his hold.

"You know Kyle you can be a real jerk!" Hannah was poking him hard in the shoulder.

"Nice to see you too Hannah….Sam listen to me"

"You have two minutes to catch my attention Kyle, but we should go upstairs."

"Where is he anyway?" Hannah asked sinking into the couch.

"Have no clue…Speak Kyle." I took my place next to Hannah and waited for Kyle to begin.

"Ok, so crazy Gretchen comes up to me after I send everyone home and says _I wouldn't underestimate the paths between walls young man. _I assumed she was just being herself until she started going on and on about the dust between the lines, warning me not to slip between the cracks and ending up in the Thames.

"She knows! Oh my god! She knows Kyle, she knows something, she knows how to get through!" I jumped from my place on the couch and grabbing my jacket.

"Where are you going?" Kyle asked.

"I need to find her."

"I'm coming with you" Hannah was quickly by my side.

"Well I'm not just going to let you two wander around alone after midnight….lets go." Kyle fell in line behind us.

At 3 in the morning we finally found Gretchen at the only place somebody awake at this ungodly hour would be.

Denny's.

"I knew you would want to speak with me again young man." She smiled as we approached the booth she was sitting in.

"Ms. Gretchen, my name is Samantha. I need you to tell me what you know about…strange walls." (what the hell else would I call it?) The old woman looked up at me and patted my hand.

"That is something you need to learn on your own, just like everyone else that comes across them."

"She really is crazy…and kind of creepy." Hannah whispered.

"Shhh." Kyle hushed her.

"Please, it means a lot to me." I was practically begging. How pathetic, begging an old crazy lady at Denny's over a cup of coffee at three in the morning.

"I recommend you check the gates."

"What gates?" Hannah asked.

Gretchen bit her bottom lip and smiled. "She's a smart girl, she'll figure it out." She said before getting up from the booth. "I suggest holding your breath….have a good day."

"The cemetery has gates." Hannah suggested "or maybe Ripley's, don't they have a gate."

"No, its not gonna be that easy." Kyle rubbed his eyes. "I think I'm gonna get going, let me know if you girls have any luck alright?" Hannah nodded, I sat in silence, digging through my brain looking for an answer.

"Sam?"

"Yea Kyle I'll let you know."

Hannah sat across from me absentmindedly stirring the now cold coffee in her cup and I was busy lightly banging my head repeatedly on the table top.

"This old city has a million gates….there is no wa…"

My head bolted upright from the table.

"I am so stupid!…Hannah you are amazing!…come on lets go." I said pulling her to her feet.

"I know…remind me why I'm amazing again."

I laughed "Sherlock kept saying how the bricks were lined with a shimmering dust….or something. Now take the cemetery gates, cast iron, nothing behind those but tombstones and creepy trees, the gates to the college the same. There are wooden gates, cast iron gates, I suppose you could even count those chubby little green guys outside of Ripley's gates, but the city only has one main gate." I said beaming at her brightly.

"I don't get it." Hannah said as we approached the stone gates at the end of St. George Street. "They look like they always have, big, old and gray. What are we looking for anyway?"

"No clue." I walked around examining the front and backsides, nothing looked out of place.

"Sammy look!" Hannah grabbed my arm and pulled me between the stone pillars. "Look…" She pointed to the middle of the pillar. It faint…very faint, but the silver shimmer was there glistening in the early morning light.

"Oh wow…would you look at that." I traced my finger around the stones, feeling them push in just a little, my breath hitched as I pulled them back out.

"Holy shit!" Hannah breathed "that is the most amazing thing I've ever seen." She said staring into the wall. I frowned slightly realizing that he would in fact be leaving and a lot sooner than I thought.

"You need to tell him Sam." Hannah rested her hand on my arm.

"Yea…let's go, he's probably passed out on my couch."

**A/N sorry guys another filler, but was it really so bad :D I'm gonna put a link up on my profile of the gates…they do exist as well as this fabulous picture RomanceDoneWrite picked up that made me a happy girl. **

**MUCH LOVE!**

**-Shelly**


	10. Taking the plunge

**Taking the Plunge**

**(Samantha)**  
Sherlock was not passed out on my couch, the chair, or in my spare room. He was, once again lying in the middle of my floor.  
"Not again" I groaned pushing his shoulder with the toe of my shoe. "Come on get up…"  
"You get up" He barked pushing my foot away.  
"He's done this before?" Hannah asked raising her eyebrows.  
"Unfortunately." I reached down and pulled at his arms. "C'mon Holmes now, you can't be on the floor."  
"Don't touch me woman!" He forcefully yanked his arms back causing me to fall over. "I am extremely tired and would like to rest." He got up and moved to the couch, not once glancing at the state I was in on the floor.  
"Sam you alright?" Hannah came to help me to my feet.  
"Well he has not done that before." He'd snapped at me before but this was something different.  
"Why is she here? Went and hired a nanny to watch over me? I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, or don't you trust me?" He picked up the near empty bottle off the floor and stormed off into the guest room.  
"What the hell is his problem?" Hannah asked taking a seat in the oversized recliner.  
"I believe that is withdrawal…its only going to get worse." I sighed "you might as well stay here, we'll keep the shop closed tomorrow."

**(Holmes)**  
Where was she, why wasn't she here when I returned. It doesn't matter, the sooner I returned to Baker Street the better. This place was only causing headaches and hunger. Lord how I ached for the familiar prick and plunge of the needle in my veins, the jolt it gave my mind.  
Her alcohol had no where near the same effects.

I quickly drained the bottle and placed it on the windowsill. It was nearly dawn, the few sunrays that had emerged were burning my eyes. Pulling the drapes closed I went over to the bed. Could this be a dream, a dream such as Alice's or was my reasoning for that a waste of time? I did not seem as if I were in a dream, but most dreamers don't feel they are dreaming when in fact they are. Reluctantly I lay on top of the sheets and rested my hands behind my head. I would sleep now and perhaps would wake up at Baker Street tomorrow.

**(Samantha)**  
The yelling from the guest room dragged me out of bed after only a few hours. Sherlock was tossing and turning about on the bed.  
"NO! Watson…stop please….get back…get…"  
"Sherlock…" I was afraid to touch him, not knowing how he would react but he looked absolutely awful. "Sherlock you need to wake up.." Going against my will I placed a hand on his shoulder. "Holmes!" I shouted giving him a shake.  
That got his attention.  
He grabbed both my wrists and rolled us both to the floor, pinning me beneath him. Once he realized it was me he quickly retreated back to the bed. I groaned and pulled my self up and sat next to him.  
"I'm…I'm sorry Samantha…it…it was just a dream…you startled me."  
"I know, I wouldn't have shook you but it seemed really bad."  
He turned to face me.  
"They took Watson…they intended to murder him and place the blame on me…"  
He lied back and his eyes slipped closed, shortly after his breathing steadied. I slipped out the door and let him sleep.

Hannah had managed to sleep through his noise, that girl could sleep through a hurricane. I plucked a book from the shelf. Slowly I began flipping through the pages of my not so fictional detective's life.  
"Oh no!" Not far from the books ending I noticed the pages had begun to fade, they were still there, but were defiantly vanishing. "Hannah get up!" I cried pulling off her blanket.  
"Not yet Sammy…few more minutes." She tucked her knees under her body and tried to go back to sleep.  
"No Hannah now!"  
"Alright alright." She complained "I'm up"  
I quickly pulled on a pair of khaki pants and a white button down and grabbed Sherlock's waist coat from the back of the couch.  
"Where are we going?" She asked rubbing the sleep from her eyes.  
"To find out if that damned wall works."

"You sure this is going to work Sammy?" I had called Kyle and had him meet us there.  
"Nope…" I sighed "But there is only one way to find out right?"  
"Where do you suppose it goes?" He asked.  
"Gretchen was keen on mentioning the Thames…so I take it I'll be going for a swim." I stared at the wall not believing what I was about to do.  
Hannah was blinking back tears.  
"Hey you stop that, I'll be back and until I am can you look after Sherlock, he's going to need a lot of Oreos." I laughed giving her a quick hug. "You and Kyle will look after the shop for me?"  
"Of course Sammy, be careful alright, I'd hate to loose my best friend" Her hazel eyes were now spilling over with tears.  
"I'll be back before you know it." I gave them both a hug before they moved to stand in front of me to avoid any unwanted attention.  
"Here goes nothing." I whispered taking a deep breath.

**A/N this should turn out interesting…**  
**LOTS OF LOVE**  
**-Shelly**


	11. Lost and found

**Lost and found**

The pressure hit my chest as soon as I slipped through the wall. I couldn't breathe, and it was cold, so cold. I kicked my way to the surface burning my lungs as I took in a breath.  
"Tower Bridge…at least I'm in the right place, but in the middle of the Thames, and a good distance from shore, in freezing cold water.  
"Oi! What are you doin in there darlin, lets get you out before you get sick."  
"Oh thank god." An older man in a small row boat helped pull me out.  
"Let's get ya warmed up then." Wrapping a wool blanket around my shoulders. "How'd you end up in there anyway?"  
"Ummm…" What was I supposed to tell him, I sure as hell wasn't gonna tell him the truth?  
"Eh it's alright, the cold must have shocked you, we'll get you all warmed up and right as rain in no time. My missus makes a delightful soup." Wait, he was taking me home with him?  
"Oh you don't have to do that, I'm sure I can find my way."  
"Nonsense dear, can't let a pretty little thing like you get sick now."

He was right, his wife did make good soup. They put me up for the night and in the morning arranged a buggy to take me to Baker Street.  
"Can I help you Miss?" Mrs. Hudson I thought, she doesn't look as horrible as Sherlock says she is. At least I was in the right place, the right time, and now I had Sherlock's doorway home.  
"I'm looking for Mr. Holmes is he available, my mother you see, has fallen very ill and I think the house keeper is responsible. I would appreciate his assistance." Let's hope she buys that.  
She frowned slightly and held the door open to me.  
"I'm afraid Mr. Holmes disappeared quite some time ago. The doctor is here if you'd like to speak to him…come with me dear."  
Quite some time, it had only been a few days, even if it had seemed like forever living with that impossible man. Mrs. Hudson led me up the stairs and knocked lightly on the door.  
"There is a young woman who would like to speak with you Dr. Watson."  
"Let her in." His voice was calm and silky smooth.  
I stepped into the room, everything straight and perfectly in order, just as it should be, with the exception of a violin that sat in the corner, covered in dust.  
"How can I be of help Ms…?"  
I waited until I heard Mrs. Hudson's footsteps reach the bottom of the stairs.  
"Samantha, my name is Samantha. Look, I'm going to tell you something, and I need you to believe me. No matter how insane it may seem."  
"I've seen my fair share of insane madam…I'm listening."  
"I know where Holmes is."  
His blue eyes lit up and his body stiffened.  
"Holmes has been missing for nearly one year, how is it you know where he is?"  
One year, did he say one year, why should I be surprised?  
"Ok this is where it gets interesting…"

Watson didn't budge as I told him about the events of the last few days, his eyes would wander and rest upon the violin every once in a while. When I was finished he walked to the window without saying a word.

"You don't believe me do you?"  
I was shocked to see the smile on his face when he turned back to me.  
"Indeed I do madam."  
"Really?"  
"Yes…That's my waistcoat you're wearing." He grinned. "You'll probably want to see his room… I suppose you can stay there too if you like, I've recently moved back into my old quarters."  
"What about Mary?"  
His clear blue eyes went gray. "Mary has since passed…stagecoach accident."  
"Oh…I'm sorry."  
"Three months now." He pulled himself together and cleared his throat. "I suppose we should look for this alleyway tomorrow, I'll have Mrs. Hudson find you some proper clothes."  
"Thanks doctor."  
"Your welcome Samantha, and please call me John."  
"Thanks John."

One week, we had looked for one long week for this damned alleyway that Sherlock stumbled into. It was nowhere to be found and we had searched every street within a 2 mile span of Baker Street. When we weren't looking I spent my time wrapped up in Sherlock's organized chaos. I already missed him, being here in this room, I could practically feel him here.  
"You've taken a liking to him haven't you?" I was sitting in Sherlock's velvet lined chair staring out the window and hadn't noticed Watson slip into the room.  
"What?"  
"Holmes…Something happened between you two." He raised an eyebrow and smiled slightly.  
"What makes you think that John?"  
He gestured to the massive amount of clutter I was sitting comfortably in.  
"No woman or man for that matter would stand to stay in this…mess and look as content as you do."  
"Is that why you keep that dusty violin in your corner." I caught his eyes and mine "Well?"  
He didn't answer he didn't have to. "What happened to Irene John?" Sherlock said she was gone, might as well ask while I'm here.  
"She off and married for good. Some crook she came across turned out to be just what she was looking for…I've never seen Holmes so upset."  
So he did care for her…and she was indeed gone.  
"Come…I think it's about time we talked to Margret." He said opening the door for me.  
"Who?"  
"She's a fortune teller."  
I covered my face with my hand and squished my cheeks. "Honestly John, what is the point in that?"  
"We've tried everything else…what harm can it do.

"Alice's wall…that's what yer referin to." Margret placed a pipe in her mouth and fiddled with a match.  
"So you've heard of this happening before?" Watson asked his fingers playing with his moustache.  
"There used to be a gypsy woman that would wander her way through here, tried to tell us all about it, her and her glittering wall. Rubbish, that's what we thought. Funny you showing up here telling me a similar tale."  
"What happened to her?" I asked the gears in my head already turning.  
"Don't know, just stopped commin round. Must have been over 10 years since I saw her last."  
"Gretchen…."  
"So you've met her then?"  
I laughed slightly and shook my head.  
"Can you tell us where it's located?"  
"Small gap in the wall behind that old book shop, leads to some sort of alleyway." She said puffing away on her pipe. Watson handed her a few notes and we were on our way.

Figures Sherlock would wiggle his way into such a tight space just because he was curious. And there it was, bright and beautiful.  
"Right then…good luck Samantha my dear, I'm glad that you found a way to get him back here."  
"What do you mean good luck John?…your coming with me."

**A/N Hey look its Watson! HORRAY! Can't have a Holmes story without his Watson!**  
**Lots of love!**  
**-Shelly**


	12. Shades of gray

**Shades of gray**

"What do you mean I'm coming with you?" Watson's eyes were wide as he backed away from the wall. "I most certainly am not going through that, that thing!" He said waving his arms at the wall.  
"Look John" Making sure my voice stayed calm "He needs you, by the time we get back he is going to be weak and delirious, you should know how ugly withdrawal can be. He could use a friend. Someone he can trust."  
Watson glanced at the wall then back to me.  
"What of Mrs. Hudson."  
Of course we couldn't let her think Watson had gone missing as well.  
"We will tell her that in order to help me further we must travel to her country home. Tell her you may be gone for several months, but not to worry."  
"I suppose that would do." He sighed and rubbed his temples. "Right…let's go then."

Mrs. Hudson had no objection to us leaving.  
"It's taken quite a toll oh him." She whispered to me once he was out of earshot. "First Mr. Holmes, then that sweet Ms. Mary. It'll do him good to get out of this house. I hope your mother turns out well."  
"Thank you Mrs. Hudson." I turned to face Watson who was coming down the steps. "We should get going John."  
"Right." He nodded in agreement and we left Baker Street. I couldn't help but feel a little sad. All the stories I had read, all the adventures I wish I could have been a part of, but after actually being there it had turned out to be just how I imagined it. And now I would have to leave it all behind.

I practically had to push Watson through. You would think a man that has been in so many dangerous situations wouldn't be afraid of a stupid brick wall.  
"Now was that really so bad?" I asked him once we were through.  
He didn't speak, he was too busy gawking at the sights around him.  
"Amazing." He whispered with his mouth hanging slightly open.  
"Yes, yes, amazing, impossible, peculiar, fascinating call it what you'd like, now can we go?"

I pushed open the apartment door. "Hannah?"  
She came from the kitchen, in the same clothes she had on when I had left a week ago. In her case hours ago.  
"Sam…what happened? Boy that was quick. What the hell are you wearing?"  
God I missed her. "Went for a very cold swim, apparently there is a massive time difference, and the most uncomfortable dress I have ever worn." I laughed answering all her questions at once and pulling her into a quick hug. Hannah was now eyeing the new addition standing in the doorway.  
"Is that who I think it is Sammy?" She asked with wide eyes.  
"Who else would I bring back…what is Holmes with out his Watson?" I whispered. "John?" He came over to stand beside me. "John this is my friend Hannah, Hannah this is…"  
"John Watson." He finished, placing a kiss to the back of her hand. Hannah flushed a deep pink.  
"Hi." She said quietly.  
"It's a pleasure to meet you Hannah."  
"How's he doing?" I asked pulling her attention away from him.  
"Huh…oh…Not to good. He's been having bad dreams, and the sweats." She said scrunching her nose. "He asked for you."  
"What?" That seemed a little strange. Of all the people in the world why on earth would he ask for me?  
"He was pretty out of it. I felt so bad Sammy. He looked so miserable and uncomfortable. I wanted to do something but as soon as I would try to dab his forehead he would go crazy."  
"That is what John's for." I said nodding in his direction.  
"I'm pretty sure he's asleep now."  
"Good, I'm sure he'd like to wake to a friendly face."

He looked rough, completely drenched in sweat, tossing every so often in his sleep, muttering incoherently.  
"I expect this to last another day or so." Watson frowned a little as he wiped the sweat from Sherlock's damp forehead. I felt it was best I stayed behind in the doorway.  
"Samantha?" He murmured. His voice sounded dry.  
"No Holmes."  
"Watson? No your not Watson, he's dead, they killed you." Tossing beneath the sheets.  
"That was only a dream Holmes."  
"Then I am still dreaming, for it is impossible that you have ended up in this wonderland along with me." He cracked open his eyes. "Or perhaps you are a ghost."  
Watson smiled softly.  
"No, I am as real as you are. As far as me getting here…well you have Samantha to thank for that."  
"No, I'm afraid she's upset with me Watson." He whispered apparently not noticing me in the doorway.  
"She's only worried for you Holmes."  
"I never meant to hurt her Watson, make sure she knows that. I would never mean to hurt her."  
It felt wrong to be witnessing such a moment, especially one he probably wouldn't even remember. So with glossy eyes I quietly shut the door and left them alone.

"Thank god, it feels good to be able to breathe." Hannah had managed to free me from that horrid corset and I was now enjoying the comfort of my own clothes.  
Watson had finally come out of the guest room  
"I don't know what you've done to him madam but that is not the same Holmes."  
"He's delirious John. You'll get your old narcissistic Holmes back before you know it." About the same time I loose him.  
"Perhaps, but he has indeed taken a liking to you."  
I pushed the hair out of my eyes and sighed. "I'm going to sit with him for a while. John can you help me move the chair in there closer to the bed."  
"Already have. I thought you might like be with him for a while."  
Hannah got up from her seat on the couch. "So John would you like a tour of our little city?" She asked her eyes big and bright.  
"As a matter of fact I think I would." He placed a hand on my shoulder. "Will you be alright with him?"  
"Yea, I'll be fine. Go, enjoy yourself, and stay out of jail." I joked. Hannah was practically dragging him out of the door.

Sherlock wasn't tossing as much when I went into the room, but his breathing was heavy. I picked up the towel and pressed it to his head. He groaned and stirred in his sleep.  
"Watson…there is no need mother me."  
"John went out for a little while." I said sitting down in the recliner Watson had moved next to the bed.  
"So he was here? I wasn't dreaming?"  
"Yes he is here."  
"And you brought him."  
"Yes."  
"Thank you Samantha." He whispered a small smile was on his weathered face.  
"Your welcome Sherlock…you should go back to sleep."  
"Are you going to leave?"  
"No, I'll stay." He didn't say anything. "Unless you want me to go." I stood from the chair. His clammy hand found mine.  
"I don't mind if you stay Samantha."  
So stay I did, through the night and into the morning.

**As always I would love to know what you think**

**-Shelly  
**


	13. Let me in

**Let me in**

**(Samantha)**  
The vomiting started at two in the morning, by this time Hannah and Watson had come back from their old city adventure and Sherlock made it perfectly clear he didn't want my company.  
"Must you be here woman?" He groaned, head smushed up against the toilet seat  
"Somebody has to make sure you keep your…mess…off my floor." Was my sarcastic reply. For someone who had spent the last half hour tossing his cookies he sure was being vocal.  
"Well it certainly doesn't have to be you."  
"I'm only trying to help."  
"I don't…" His head went back into the bowl, wiping his mouth with his sleeve when he came back up.  
"I don't need your help." His body had become weak, no longer able to keep himself upright he slipped down onto the cold checkered floor.  
"I can see that."  
"Leave!" He shouted trying to push himself up again.  
"FINE! I'll just stay away from you then."  
"Good." He mumbled under his breath.

Watson was standing at the bay window staring out over the quiet city.  
"He's returning to himself I see." Noticing the frustration that was written all over my face.  
"He's all yours."  
"It should pass by midmorning, I'm sure he will be less harsh with you then." He smiled "I'll take care of him until then." He made his way down the hall and into the bathroom.

If he wouldn't let me near him the least I could do was make him comfortable. I changed his damp sweat lined yellow sheets, and managed to find a down blanket, if the sweats were over he'd probably get cold. I was surprised at the mess he had managed to make in the small amount of time he had been in here. I had just as many books stacked up in here as there were in the bookshelf in the living room. Naturally he had them all scattered about on the floor, as well as the clock radio he had managed to take apart. I chuckled at the sight of the curtains, which were now fastened closed with safety pins. I didn't even know I had safety pins. I draped some clean clothes over the dingy recliner and gathered up the dirty sheets just as Watson came into the room with Sherlock in tow.  
"Don't worry I was just leaving." I said coldly as I walked by them.  
"What ever is the matter with her Watson?" I heard Sherlock utter as I left. You're what's the matter with me. I thought. I knew the mood swings were not his fault the last couple of days, but that didn't stop me from getting upset. I also couldn't shake the memory of the kiss we had shared in my shop of the feelings that I had developed as much as I tried not to. Sinking into the cushions of the couch I stared up at the ceiling fan, letting the blades hypnotize me into sleep.

I only slept a few hours, when I woke up Watson was sleeping soundly in the oversized recliner. I quietly crept past him and into the guest room. As stubborn as Sherlock had been I still wanted to check in on him. He was sleeping soundly as well. No tossing, no sweating, no muttering, just steady breathing and soft snores. I fixed the blanket he had managed to get halfway onto the floor, pulling it back over his body. He looked peaceful, like he did when I came home after that soul shaking kiss. Once more I brushed the hair from his face, then placed a light kiss to his forehead.  
"I really will miss you Sherlock, if only you knew." I whispered to myself, before sitting down in the recliner and falling back to sleep.

**(Holmes)**  
Despite the fact that I had pinned the shades shut the sun still managed to find its way in to wake me. The last few days had been a blur. I faintly remembered Watson being here, clearly that was a dream, how could Watson have possibly found the same wall that I did. I turned my head to see Samantha sleeping in a chair that had been placed next to the bed. How could I have forgotten, she found a way through and managed to bring Watson back to me. Why was she in here, she certainly did not look comfortable. I faintly recalled yelling at her and saw the hurt expression on her delicate face, an expression I had caused more than once, and yet here she was sleeping at my side. If she had found a way back I would be leaving soon, and indeed I would miss her. Those expressive gray blue eyes, that oddly placed dimple high on her cheek just below her left eye, even her ability to constantly injure herself. She was so much different from Irene, just as smart, but without the manipulation, her only intentions of helping me were just that, to help me find my way back home. I went against everything I had ever done in terms of women and let myself develop some kind of relationship. I got out of the bed, quietly as not to wake her, and left the room.

Watson and that energetic girl were seated at the kitchen table, they looked to be enjoying what ever they were discussing. I went to the wooden cupboards and began rummaging for something to eat. God bless her, what did she call these delightful things…oh yes Oreos…I would defiantly miss these, I grabbed the package off the shelf.  
"Good morning!" Said the energetic one as I joined them at the table. "You look better."  
"Hmmm." What was her name…Savannah…not that not quite right is it? Hannah, yes that was her name. Nice girl though much too energetic. "Good morning dear." I said before turning to Watson. "Nice to see you Watson."  
"Likewise Holmes. Good to see you in a right state of mind."  
"Come now, was I really that bad off?" No matter the situation I had usually been able to keep my head on straight, however my mind did seem hazy.  
"A complete asshole." Hannah muttered under her breath, causing Watson to chuckle.  
"You weren't exactly….pleasant Holmes."  
"Mmmm…that's not unusual if I understand correctly." I said attempting to crack a smile.  
"No it's not." Samantha's soft voice came from the doorway, bits of her dark red hair framing her face. Our eyes met for a moment, she didn't look upset with me but something was clearly bothering her. "I'm going to go help Kyle out in the shop for a little while, clear my head." She was still looking at me with sad eyes growing grayer by the moment. The table grew silent after she was gone.  
"You need to talk to her." Hannah spoke up.  
"For what purpose? It won't help the matter any now will it?"  
"She's right Holmes, we'll be leaving in the morning, you should at least try to speak with her…You should have seen how content she was sitting in your mess."  
"She was in my room?" That was not good, surely she had tried to straighten about my things, she liked things to be organized, to be where they belonged.  
"She didn't touch anything, she just sat around in that horrid chair of yours."  
Interesting.  
"Look Sherlock, John and I are going to go out and enjoy the day, I suggest you do the same." Hannah smiled glancing between Watson and myself. "I'm going home to change, be back soon!" Her small energetic body sprang up from the round table and out the door.  
"If I didn't know any better Watson I'd say that girl enjoys your company." I said raising an eyebrow at him.  
"I enjoy hers as well…shame we are leaving I'd like to get to know her a bit more."  
"What of Mary Watson?" How could he have forgotten about his wife?  
"Mary is gone Holmes. She passed three months ago…stagecoach accident."  
"Oh….well…my apologies…I didn't realize…"  
"It's alright, how could you have known." He stood from his chair at the table. "Talk to her Holmes." He said before leaving the room.

Samantha was seated with her head in her arms at a small table in the corner when I walked through the shop door, that Kyle character was behind the counter glaring at me as I walked in.  
"Is your mind clear yet madam?" I asked taking a seat in front of her.  
"What do you want?" Came her muffled reply. She slowly raised her head to look at me. I frowned at the sight of her reddened eyes.  
"Come…take a walk with me, we'll…talk."  
"You don't talk Sherlock, you avoid the mere thought of having an emotional conversation." She had a point, but I didn't want to leave here on bad terms.  
"Normally yes…but I would like very much to talk with you." Placing my hand on her folded arms. "Please take a walk with me." The blue began to speckle through out her eyes.  
"Alright then."

**(Samantha)**  
Who would have thought that he may actually care? Of course I wanted to talk I also knew that he would never admit anything, it just wasn't who he was. Part of me was ok with that, the other part wanted nothing more than to pour my heart out and have him let me in. That was not going to happen, but there was still that flicker of hope each time he caught my eye. He stuck his arm out to me and I was quick to loop mine through, maybe a little too quick, but it felt good to have some sort of contact with him without him jerking away.  
"Where are we going?" I asked him while we walked through the cool February air.  
"This is your city my dear, you tell me." He smiled looking down at me. At least he seemed to be in a decent mood. "Watson said you took a liking to my chair."  
He actually was going to attempt to talk. "It was very comfy. I left everything in its proper place on the floor by the way." I laughed.  
"I know…why did you go on your own, it may not have been safe."  
"The ink started to fade and I wanted to make sure it would take you home, no point sending you on another wild goose chase.  
"But you didn't know where it led either."  
"I had an idea of where…it was when that concerned me."  
"Hmm…"  
I had the irking feeling he was going to shut up on me.  
"There is a time difference by the way." I said trying to grab his interest.  
"Really?…by how much."  
"I figured it to be one day here…two months there."  
He raised his eyebrows. "Interesting."  
We came to a stop in front of the fort. The lush green grassy hill looked very nice about now to my aching ankle. "Mind if we sit?" I asked him nodding toward the hill.  
He nodded letting me put some of my weight on him, as we climbed the hill.  
"Can I ask what happened?" He said once we were seated. I lay back crossing my arms behind my head.  
"What…the limp?"  
"Mmmm."  
"Three years ago I tried to stop someone from breaking into my brothers place…the smashed it with a very large very painful hammer."  
"Oh Samantha…you are a terrible liar." He started to laugh.  
"Oh please! It could have happened." I said nudging his leg with my own.  
"You chew on your bottom lip when you lie, and those eyes of yours give everything away." That familiar tingle was starting to run through my body.  
"Why do you want to know anyway?"  
"As I said before madam…you know all about me and I know so little about you."  
"And you actually want to know about my clumsy life."  
"I do."  
That had surprised me, I never thought that he would actually be interested in learning anything about me. I sat up and smiled softly when I looked into his deep brown eyes. I took a breath and began.  
"My full name is Samantha Lynn Parker, I am 28 years old, I have a younger brother by 4 years named Stephen, and yes we are close even if I haven't spoken to him in 6 months. Our grandmother took us in when I was 10 after my parents decided they were too young to raise children. I have broken a total of 16 bones, my nose, three fingers two toes, four ribs, my wrist, my arm in three different places, my leg and two years ago on a camping trip with my brother I fell out of a tree breaking my ankle. I like to read, I prefer tea over coffee and always with Lorna Doons. I like to listen to The Beatles, Elton John, standards, Sara Bareillies, and John Mayer's early stuff. My natural hair color is brown…I think. And I will miss you terribly when you leave."  
I didn't mean for that last bit to slip out.  
He didn't say a word, he just sat there looking at me with dark eyes that were growing darker by the second. Very slowly he leaned into me causing my heart to beat uncontrollably in my chest. He pushed the stray hair out of my face and tucked it behind my ear, letting his hand fall to the back of my neck pulling me closer to him. I placed my hands on his chest and closed the small gap between us. It wasn't like the first time, rushed and greedy. No. It was soft, soft and gentle our lips moving together as time came to a stop. He pulled away and rested his forehead on mine.  
"I'll miss you too Samantha…more than I should." He leaned in and kissed me again. "We should get back." He helped me to my feet and as we walked back with me tucked under his shoulder happy that he had finally let me in…and now he had to leave.

**A/N My lord…this chapter gave me a very hard time Holmes was not being corporative today. CrazyKatChan07 I tried to make it meaty for ya! Hope you all enjoyed as much of a pain in the ass it was today I think im happy with it overall :D**  
**MUCH LOVE**  
**-Shelly**


	14. When we were young

**When we were young**

"Wait." We stopped walking about a block away from my street. Sherlock looked down at me with a puzzled look on his face.  
"Is something the matter?"  
"I want to show you something." I grabbed his hand and began to pull him down the street.  
The sun had set by the time we made it to the cemetery, the moonlight softly bouncing off the headstones behind the cast iron gate. It was locked, figures there weren't many times they left it open after dark. I laughed lightly to myself as I let my hands slide atop the small coquina wall to the side of the locked gate.  
"Woman what are you doing?" He asked me with his head cocked lightly.  
"Shh" I placed both hands on the wall and with a push hopped over the side, grimacing when I landed on my ankle.  
"You're going to regret that decision later madam."  
"Shut up and get over here!" I whispered grinning at him.  
"I do believe that lock is meant to keep us out." He said raising an eyebrow.  
"Since when do you follow the rules?" I smirked before leaving him behind.  
He was over the wall and back by my side quicker than I expected. He placed his under my elbow.  
"Do you make a habit of jumping cemetery walls my dear?" He whispered looking around at our eerie surroundings.  
"Only if the company is right… here we are. We came to a large crypt in the center of the cemetery, the only one with a small wooden ramp leading to the doors. I kneeled down to the forth plank and began to tug.  
"I don't think that is wise Samantha." He cautioned me.  
"Oh stuff it already, I know how your head works and that you're pretty damn curious as to what I am doing. Now you can stand there and attempt to figure it out on your own…" I grunted as I yanked on the board. "Or…you…can help…me." It did not want to come up. "Well?" The corner of his mouth pulled up as he got down on his knees and helped me pull. A fair amount of pulling and wiggling had the wood free and out of its place on the ramp. There was nothing there…just darkness.  
"What was the point in this madam?"  
"Patience Mr. Holmes." I lied down on my stomach and placed my hand up underneath the boards, letting my arm sink into a hole in the dirt. "Come on where are you…" my hand digging deeper and deeper into the damp dirt. "Ahh there you are!" Out came my arm and a small tin Raggedy Annn and Andy lunch box. I undid the latch and smiled wide as I opened the lid.  
"What on earth is that?" Sherlock asked nodding to the box, curiosity still in his eyes.  
"My grandmother took me in during the summertime, to keep me out of trouble she would take me to work at the nursing home with her. I met Hannah then…her mom worked next door at a diner." I fingered the items in the box. A silver dollar, plastic compass, a doll made of yarn, a pocket watch, and a few other trinkets from my past.  
"Every Tuesday morning gram would bring in a package of Oreos, and every Wednesday the residents would find that all the cream was gone, the cookies placed back together in the package."  
"I don't under stand how this is related…" Sherlock interrupted.  
"Shh…Now a nursing home can be a very boring place for two ten year old girls, especially when gram put us to work in the laundry room and since everyone was upset about the cream caper, we decided to find out who was scraping the cookies clean. We asked questions, checked rooms, even cleaned teeth to look for crumbs. It wasn't until laundry day that we noticed crumbs in Mr. Rookwood's shirt pocket… Mr. Rookwood had no teeth…not even dentures, so why would he be eating crunchy cookies. We asked Gram to let us stay late Tuesday night in the community living room. Sure enough after everyone was asleep Mr. Rookwood would creep on in and proceed to lick the cream out, place the cookies back together and put the package back onto the shelf."  
I picked up the pocket watch and turned it over in my hands "When Mr. Rookwood died the home gave his watch to Hannah and I…a token for catching the great Oreo cream caper…we were very proud of ourselves so that's what we did every summer. Not that there were many nursing home mysteries…most of them were set up by the residents, they didn't think we'd be able to tell the difference." I expected him to laugh…hell who wouldn't? A couple of young girls chasing around cookie crumbs. He didn't laugh, he was smiling but he did not laugh.  
"What?" I asked opening the watch face.  
"Hmmm…Hannah is your Watson."  
"Yea I suppose she is." I laughed "anyway, I'd like you to have this…it's only fair, I have things to remind me of your cases so here is one to remind you of mine." I placed the watch in his hand and folded his fingers around it. "As silly as it may have been."  
He placed his hand over mine. "You were a clever child Samantha, even if it seems funny now it meant something to you then."  
I closed the box and returned it to its proper hiding place, replacing the board in the ramp.  
"HEY! YOU CAN'T BE IN THERE!" I should have known with my luck a lousy cop would be snooping around.  
"Shit! We gotta get out of here." Sherlock pulled me to my feet and we took off to the far side of the cemetery. My foot caught in a tree root and I landed flat on my face. Thank you god, I appreciate how your gift comes at the most inopportune times of my life. I groaned as I got back up.  
"Samantha are you alright?" He was a few feet in front of me.  
"Never better!" I called sprinting to catch up with him. He went over the wall and was quick to pull me up and over. Lucky for me this side of the wall was not far from home. We ran down the cobblestone streets and up my stairs laughing as I shut the door behind us.  
"Well that was most interesting." He grinned wiping his dirt clad hands onto his jeans. I hobbled over to the couch and fell back into the welcoming cushions.  
"I'm going to clean myself up." He said running his hands through his hair.  
"Mmmm" I was asleep before the bathroom door closed.

I woke to a sharp stinging on my forehead. I groaned and winced before opening my eyes. Sherlock was hovering above me, I sighed feeling the heat radiating from his body that was dangerously close to mine.  
"Can I help you?" I smirked. He was focusing on something at the top of my hair line.  
"No….hmmm…."  
I rolled my eyes up noticing the alcohol pad in his hand. I didn't even notice that I had hurt myself when I fell over that damned root.  
"Well…that should do it then." He said turning his down at me. "Cant have you bleeding on everything now can we?" He flashed me a lopsided grin before he got up. I could hear him rummaging around in my kitchen. "Oh lord not again." I whispered.  
"I suppose this will do." I heard him mutter. He was holding a bag of frozen corn when he came back over to the couch. He pulled up the leg of my jeans and gently placed the bag over my ankle.  
"You've seemed to agitate it quite a bit, perhaps you should stay off it until morning." He shifted the bag and softly traced the small scar with his thumb. My breath hitched enough for him to notice. "Did I hurt you?" I shook my head no watching him with curious eyes. He left again.  
"Um…I would really like to clean my…oh."  
He was back in the living room with a bowl and washcloth, once again giving me that half grin.  
"Figured you might." I sat up on the couch and motioned for him to hand me the bowl. He sat down next to me instead, and ever so lightly proceeded to wash the remaining dirt from my arm. I tried to ignore the surge of heat running through me each time the tips of his fingers would run down my skin, I also tried to ignore the sad sigh he gave when he once again left me on the couch.  
I closed my eyes and let my head fall against the back of the couch. So this is how it was going to be, no more talking, no more fighting, and certainly no more kissing. The cushion dipped beside me, I felt his familiar warmth on my arm. I opened my eye's to see him looking straight ahead. I lifted my head from the back of the couch and put my face in my hands. He shifted in his seat and I felt an arm go around my shoulders. I couldn't help but smile and melt into his side, slinking my arm across his middle. He placed a kiss on top of my head.  
"I am sorry Samantha…I…I…just wanted you to know that." He sighed, lightly tracing small circles into my arm.  
"Sorry for what Sherlock?" I whispered glad he couldn't see my face.  
He sighed again. "You should get some sleep."  
I slid down and rested my head on his lap and his hand moved up and ran through my hair. I knew he was trying to comfort me, he knew how hard it would be for me to watch him go slip into the wall and out of my life. His took a deep breath and it shuttered a little when he exhaled.  
"I'm sorry I have to leave." He whispered so low I could barley hear. I fell asleep in his lap as silent tears crawled down my cheeks.

**Awww this made me sad L Hope the oreo thing wasn't horribly bad…I suck at trying to make mysteries.**  
**Lots of love**  
**-Shelly**


	15. Slipping back

**Slipping back**

Giggling, high pitched, very loud, giggling was penetrating my ears.  
"Hmmm…" Sherlock's hand was still tangled in my hair, lightly rubbing my scalp "It seems that our Watson's have returned."  
I rolled onto my back and looked up at those mysterious dark eyes. "They've gotten pretty chummy you know." I grinned.  
"I noticed…"  
I closed my eyes not wanting the morning to continue. I'd be perfectly content to lie here forever.  
"Samantha…"He said softly. "We should be going soon."  
I sighed and pulled myself from the warmth of his lap.

I had taken a shower and now had my head buried in the comfort of my pink feather pillow. I felt like an idiot, it would never work between us anyway, our stubbornness alone would drive us mad. The bedroom door opened.  
"Sammy?" Hannah sat down on the edge of the bed. "You ok Sammy?" She placed her small hand on my back. "I need to tell you something Sam."  
I sat up and pushed the hair out of my face. "Go ahead Hannah, something nice I hope because today is going to blow."  
She moved closer to me and put both her hands on my shoulders. "Don't hate me ok?"  
"Don't be ridiculous Hannah I could never hate you." She started chewing on her bottom lip, great she was nervous, so it wasn't something nice after all.  
"I'm going back with John!" She blurted out scrunching her face up. I couldn't speak, I didn't have words to explain the shock had just gone through me. She leaned her face a little closer to mine to get a look in my eyes, which I'm sure had no blue left in them what so ever.  
"Sam…say something."  
"YOUR'RE WHAT? ARE YOU INSANE?" I don't think she was expecting that, she jumped up off the bed and began to back away putting her hands up in surrender.  
"Sammy…I'll be back, but we've been talking and well I've always been interested in Victorian London, who better than to show me around."  
"You're just going to leave this all behind! You have a life here Hannah, with people who love you! I can't deal with this right now." I couldn't believe the girl that had stuck by my side for 18 years was just going to walk out on me. I stormed out of my room only to be met in the hall by Sherlock who looked just as angry.  
"I take it you have just learned the same news I have." He growled through his teeth.  
"I don't think it's a good idea…but she won't change her mind, its not who she is." I moved to walk around him. He stuck his arm out against the wall so I couldn't cross.  
"If she can come so can you." It took me a moment to register what he had just said.  
"No I can't." I ducked under his arm and continued down the hallway.  
"Why?" He was quick behind me, spinning me around and holding me put in front of him.  
"This is where I belong…I can't just leave everything I've worked so hard for and not look back." He said nothing, as suspected. "You have a life you need to get back to Sherlock, that life." I said pointing to the bookshelf "and I'm not in it."  
He sighed and released me. "Your right…it's for the best you remain here…and for me to return to Baker Street."  
"Sam?" Hannah was standing behind him in the doorway of my bedroom. Sherlock moved out of the way and left us to be alone. "I'll only be gone two weeks tops. I called Kyle and Stephen and they said they would…"  
"You told Stephen?" My brother spent his life chasing after fables and mysterious legends and Hannah just handed him one on a silver platter.  
"He was more than happy to help Sam, he said he'd stay with you for a while."  
"I'm sure he did."  
Hannah ran a hand through her brown hair and sighed. "I really want to do this Sam."  
"Alright…let's get you into some proper clothes." Her face lit up as bright as it did when we busted Mr. Rookwood.  
"I'll keep him out of trouble Sammy." She said pulling me in for a hug.  
"HA!" I scoffed "You try and do that you'll only last a day."

Then there we were, all gathered in front of the city gates, Hannah in that awful dress Mrs. Hudson had dug up for me, Sherlock and John by her side.  
"Don't forget to hold your breath." They all nodded, Hannah with tears in her eyes all over again.  
"Come on now Hannah, what's two weeks?" I attempted to laugh.  
"Two weeks for you." She threw her arms around me "I'll miss you so much Sam."  
"I'll miss you too Hannah." I wiped the tears from her glassy hazel eyes and turned to John.  
"Take care of her John."  
"I assure you that I will." He smiled and gave me a quick hug before wrapping an arm around Hannah's waist. "Ready then?" He asked her with a smile on his face.  
"As I'll ever be."  
Then arm in arm the slipped into the wall, leaving me and Sherlock alone for the last time.

I couldn't hold back any longer, throwing my arms around his middle I let my guard down and cried whole heartedly into his chest.  
"Samantha…" He breathed into my ear holding me to him tightly "I'm so sorry Samantha I wish it hadn't of come to this."  
I couldn't bring my self to utter the word goodbye, I refused to do so.  
"Promise you won't forget me Sherlock." I whispered into his shirt. He pulled back and I met the gaze of those big brown eyes that would haunt my dreams for an eternity.  
"You my darling Samantha will most certainly not be forgotten." He smiled although the look on his face was nothing but sadness and pressed a kiss high on my left cheek. He pushed the hair behind my ear one more time and after gently squeezing my hands he turned and disappeared from my life.


	16. Semiconscious

**Semiconscious**

**(Samantha)**  
Completely numb, I couldn't and didn't want to feel a damn thing. It was better that I didn't anyway, I was better off in a semiconscious state on the couch then in a deep depression in my bed. One day was all it took. One day to realize how much I missed his assholish banter. I stayed put on the couch simply because his scent still lingered there, even the books he left on the floor remained having no desire to put them back. The small amount of disarray in my otherwise neat apartment brought me a small amount of comfort. The banging from the door slightly pulled me from my hole in the cushions.  
"Samantha…open the door Sam!"  
I groaned into the pink pig being used as a pillow and rolled over.  
"I'd prefer not to pick the lock Sam!"  
Why wouldn't he just go away? I was in no mood to deal with my brother, I'm sure Kyle had filled him in on everything Hannah hadn't and he would have plenty of questions. I could hear him fidgeting with the lock, it was only a matter of time now.  
"Saman…oh good god." He gawked at the empty bottles littered around the base of my green and yellow tweed couch. He started to remove my vials of satisfaction and disposed of them in the trash. Then he started to pick up my books.  
"Leave them." I grumbled.  
"Sam…I'm just going to put them…"  
"Leave them Stephen! Don't you fucking touch them!" He was taken aback by my tone of voice. "What are you doing here anyway?"  
He pushed the long brown hair from his eyes and sat in the oversized recliner.  
"Kyle warned me that you may be…indisposed, and we both know what that road leads to." He said dryly leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees.  
"Don't bring them into this." Them being our parents. I really didn't want to open that can of worms on top of everything else. Yes they practically abandoned us, leaving us with gram, but no one had expected eight years later that the Atlanta police department would find my mothers dead body in a roach motel bathtub. An apparent suicide is what they deemed it to be.  
I say murder.  
"Don't you drink yourself to oblivion, who knows what you'll do…I'd prefer not to loose my sister for another 2 years."  
"That wasn't my fault Stephen you know it!"  
"You could have kept your mouth shut and not let everyone think you were crazy!"  
I wasn't crazy. Nobody believed what I had to say. They still don't.  
My mother certainly did not kill herself, something dark deep down inside told me it was my father. They didn't exactly get along to begin with. It was a marriage of convenience, they did not even sleep in the same room. They stayed together out of habit, even after they left us. So when mom turns up dead right wrist slit in the bathwater they took it for suicide. Said her doing it in the tub was to avoid mess. Seriously who thinks that when they are about to kill themselves.  
Murder.  
Mom was right handed there is no way she would have been able to make such a clean cut with her left hand. The hairs they found both in the bathroom and in the hotel bed belonged to my father, he told them they were having a** _good day_**. That was complete udder bullshit. They never had good days. They also failed to look into the scratch marks on his face and the teeth marks on his arm. "I told you things had been going well…don't know why she would do this …I thought she was happy" that was his excuse then and now. I saw through the fake tears, the eye drops he fingered through his pocket in the courtroom. They cleared his name and didn't think twice about it.  
I took things into my own hands, going to the police myself bringing them my own interesting pieces to the puzzle. The hairs on the pillow, the tiniest puncture marks from some sort of needle in her neck, his broken bloody glasses behind the bathtub. With each one he had a new excuse and was set free. It was all I could think of. Night after night, I would drink everything and anything and think of ways to put him where he belonged. Where did that lead me?…Not where I thought. My father ended up in some gang trouble, most likely drug related, and was shot point blank in the head the night I showed up drunk and angry on his doorstep. Naturally, everything pointed to me, my best bet was to plead insanity and be shacked up in the crazy house for two years. I was tired of fighting and loosing, so I gave in, said what the lawyers told me to say, and spent two miserable years in the nut house. Hannah was the only one who believed me…Stephen said he did, but I had my doubts.  
"I'm not crazy Stephen." I whispered sitting up on the couch. "I just want to be alone."  
"I know Sam." He sat down next to me and rubbed my back. "I just want to look after you."  
"This is nothing like what happened with mom…I…I…just miss him…so much." I put my head in my hands wiping away the forming tears.  
"All this over a guy." Stephen smirked, earning an elbow to the ribs. "So is it true?"  
"Is what true?"  
"Hannah said it was Sherlock Holmes" He arched his eyebrows "something about a wall…"  
"Good lord." I left for the kitchen.  
"Well is it? 'Cause that's something I'd like to see." He was right behind me.  
"Yes Stephen it's true." I splashed some water onto my face. "And no you're not going to look into anything."  
"C'mon Sam please…" He batted those clear blue eyes that had decided to skip my genes.  
"Go talk to Gretchen if you want to go wandering through walls, leave me out of it."

**(Holmes)**  
I fingered Samantha's watch from my pocket as I did often throughout the day. Closing my eyes in the comfort of my velvet lined armchair imagining what it would have been like to watch her sit completely comfortable in what Watson liked to refer to as my mess. The first month had been agonizing, I had never known what it had been like to miss the presence of a woman and it was an absolutely dreadful feeling. The presence of the Hannah girl had just made things worse for me, each time she would look my way her eyes would turn to pity and remind me of what we had both left behind. She and Watson had become more affectionate, fueling my depressed fire. I had glanced at the Moroccan box that held my syringe even took it out and held it on few occasions, yet I could not find it to push the piston down and into my skin. Not after what I had put Samantha through.  
Removing the watch from my pocket, I opened the face and traced my thumb over the roughly etched number one on the inside of the lid. It brought a smile to my weathered face, picturing a small Samantha with a nail perhaps, marking her first token.  
I closed the watch and returned it to my pocket as Watson came through my door.  
"Holmes you really need a case. It will take your mind off things." He began to rummage through newspapers and letters I had accumulated in the past month and a half.  
"There is absolutely nothing in that pile of rubbish that has peaked my minds interest."  
"Then do it to pay the rent at least. Look here Mr. Claxton has lost his prized Pony."  
"No he hasn't. The young Charles Claxton can not tie a proper knot and it has run away."  
"Dr. Fuller has had three shipments of morphine gone missing."  
"Hmm…I do believe the delivery boy in that area is known for his drug habits."  
Mrs. Hudson entered carrying a tea tray. "I brought you some tea Mr. Holmes."  
Ever since my return I had seen Mrs. Hudson quite frequently, she seemed happy that I had returned. Watson had told her I was simply laying low at Mycroft's country home while I collected my thoughts, she believed him well enough and now she was invading my room at least 4 times a day.  
"You just brought me tea not an hour ago…or did you forget…nanny?"  
"Glad to see you haven't changed much." She replied placing down the new tray and removing the old one.  
"I'm taking Hannah to dinner. Would you like to join us?"  
"No."  
"When's the last time you ate actual food?"  
"It doesn't matter."  
"I'll have Mrs. Hudson bring something up then."  
"I'll get it myself."  
I did not want to be in her company again so soon. The ever-energetic Hannah came bounding through the door.  
"Hello Sherlock! Are you ready to go John?"  
"Yes of course darling." He turned his attention back to me. "Do something Holmes, the less time you spend in her sulking the better you'll feel."  
"I'm sure he's taking it better than Sammy. The last time her world got turned upside down she turned to alcohol and a two year stay in the loony bin." Her breath hitched as soon as the words passed through her lips. Surely she did not mean to let me in on this piece of information. What intrigued me most is why my dear Samantha had ended up in an asylum.  
"What would you be referring to madam?" I stood from my chair and went to face her.  
"If she didn't tell you I don't think I should." Her face was flushed and she was looking to the rug.  
"Well I doubt that will be happening, so if you would please enlighten me."  
"She didn't tell you about her parents?"  
"She informed me that her parents had left when she was young, I suspect she felt as if they had abandoned her, but she has seemed to have had a decent upbringing with her grandmother." Hannah sighed, her hazel eyes darkened slightly, something else had clearly taken place.  
"They're dead. They said her mother committed suicide, but Sammy always thought it was her father. When her dad turned up dead, they assumed it to have been Sam's doing. She pled insanity and got shut up for two years." She closed her eyes and sighed again "That's the gist of it anyway."  
"Hmm…" It did not surprise me that she kept this from me, but the fact that she hid such a traumatic event so well was interesting.  
"We will see you in the morning then Holmes." Watson said before leading his new interest out the door. The guilt washed over me as I pictured Samantha wallowing in the small comfort of her alcohol induced coma. How I longed to look into those eyes and comfort her in some way. I sat back in my armchair and fingered the watch once more.  
"Wait for me Samantha…just wait."

**A/N Hell no it's not over! Why would I do that to you…I did want you to wait a few days though…keep you in suspense. Let me know what you think**  
**Lots of love**  
**-Shelly**


	17. Perfect timing

**Perfect timing**

**(Samantha)**

The booze was gone and Stephen had decided to stay with me to prevent me from drowning myself in the sweet burn I was accustomed to. With a lack of alcohol I was forced to face my depression with a straight mind and broken heart. Kyle and Stephen managed to keep the shop open while I stayed put on the couch falling asleep to my own sobs. At night Stephen would return home and sit with me on the couch. He didn't ask questions, he didn't tell me everything would be alright, he just sat knowing that I would talk when I needed to, and just him being there was the most he could do for me at the moment.

One week. One horribly slow moving week had passed since Sherlock left with my best friend in tow. I'm sure Hannah was fine, her and John were probably already cozied up to each other like two peas in a pod. The hole in my chest was slowly healing, causing me to be more active in my daily activities. That morning I had even managed to pull my self from the comfort of the couch to make breakfast and enjoy a well needed cup of tea. I found myself wandering into the guest room and was pleased to see it was still in the same state of mess he had left it in. Undoing the safety pins from the dark purple curtains I let the sun beams into the room making his mess more noticeable. Sighing as I made my way back through the pathway of stacked books, pictures, and everything else he had managed to remove from my shelves, I decided I would at least make out the bed. Pulling off the down blanket something landed on the floor with a soft thud. I looked down to my feet. Sherlock's hat was sitting on the floor, I couldn't believe I failed to notice him leaving without it. I plucked it up letting my fingers run around the brim. For the first time that week a smile slowly crept onto my face.  
"Sammy?" Kyle called slowly pushing open the door. "Hey, sorry the door was open…you doing ok." He leaned up against the door frame hands in his pockets.  
"I'll live…how's business?" It's a good thing Stephen can bake almost as good as you or we'd be in trouble." He laughed. Kyle ran his hands through his hair. "Sam I know I usually take over for the day shift but I have plans tomorrow so you think…uh…you ready to come back…I mean I can reschedule if you…"  
"It's fine Kyle. It will keep me busy, take my mind off of things." I patted his shoulder as I stepped out of the room. "What kind of plans? If you don't mind me being nosy." Kyle wasn't really the plan making type.  
"I….uh…I…have a date." Why was he acting funny? He had a date, big deal, no need to act funny.  
"And you're acting like you've just robbed a bank because…?" I raised an eyebrow at him.  
"I didn't want to make you feel…I don't know…upset I guess."  
"Why would I be upset you have a date? I'm always telling you to get out and find one."  
"Not because of that." He whispered.  
"Than what? Stop jerking me around and just spit it out!" That boy could be extremely aggravating and he loved to push my buttons.  
"What's the date today Sam?"  
I turned my head to look at the pig filled calendar that hung by the bookshelf.  
"February 13th…" my heart stopped for a moment. "Oh."  
"Look I know there is going to be a bunch of lovey doveys out on the town tomorrow so I'd understand completely if you'd rather not work." I could see the guilt in his eyes, I could also see that he really wanted to go on his date. Oh well, it was just another day of the year right, just one more day to get through, just one more day of loneliness.  
"It's alright Kyle, I'll do it." I smiled weakly.  
He pulled me in for a quick hug. "Thanks so much Sammy, you'll get over this little speed bump."  
"Mmmhmm." He released me and patted my shoulders.  
"Well I better run, the ghosts are calling. Thanks again Sam."  
"You're welcome Kyle, have fun."  
Once he was gone I sank back into the couch twirling Sherlock's hat between my hands.

I breathed in the coffee scented air as I strolled through the door of my neglected shop. I did miss my cute little checkered floors, the cozy lived in couches that lined the far wall.  
Kyle was right, all morning I was faced with adoring couples playing kissy face over coffee and muffins. Stephen had taken it upon himself to bake little heart shaped cookies, and cannoli's dipped in little heart shaped pink and red sprinkles. They did well for business, but earned an eye roll from me each time someone ordered one for their significant other. The day had been long and things slowed down by mid afternoon. Stephen had come down to relieve me and I was on my way out the door when Gretchen walked in clutching a small package in her hands.  
"I believe this is meant for you dearie." She had a sly smile on her face as she handed me the package wrapped with plain brown paper.  
"What's that Sam?" Stephen piped up coming out from behind the counter.  
"I…I don't know." I replied turning it over in my hands."  
"Well go on, open it!" He laughed.  
I slid my fingers under the seam and peeled back the paper. It was a book, by the looks of it a very old book. I turned it over. _Alice's adventures in wonderland._  
"Oh wow…" Slowly I peeled open the front flap_ London Macmillan and co. 1865 _"Oh my god…Stephen this is…wow." I couldn't find words, the fact that I was holding a book that there were very few of was enough to make my head spin. "Gretchen where did you find this?"  
"I'm sure you have your suspicions dear. Enjoy your day." Without as much as another glance back at me she walked out the door.  
"Now this isn't my area of interest Sam, but wasn't this first printed in 1866, what is this, a typo." Stephen said looking over my new found treasure.  
"No, in 1865 there was a small first edition release. 2000 copies, the artist wasn't happy with the pictures and recalled them shortly after the release. Most of them were retrieved, maybe 20 or so didn't make it back. This is impossible to find." I smiled flipping through the pages. It was in near perfect condition, certainly not looking anywhere near its age. "Unless you know where to look." A small piece of paper fell out from between the pages.

_**Of all my adventures the most memorable was with you.**_

No signature, just one simple sentence.  
That was all I needed for a smile to break out onto my face, for tears to fill my eyes and for the warmth to return to my heart.

**(Holmes)**

Fourteen months have gone by, and still not a day that I don't think of that intriguing woman that I left behind. I no longer held myself in a state of pity, I had made it a point to look towards the future and the hopes I held within it. I began to work again, my mind reveled in the cases I had managed to procure with the help of Watson by my side just as it was not too long ago. Hannah had proven her self to be useful to Mrs. Hudson and made much better food.  
Watson weaved his way into my room, as usual Hannah attached to his side. "This just arrived for you Holmes." Handing me an envelope I had been expecting for the last week.  
"Perfect timing, any later and my plan wouldn't have worked in the least." I scribbled something down on a piece of scrap parchment and slipped it inside the packaging.  
"What is this about Holmes?"  
"It is of no concern to you Watson, now if you excuse me…"  
"It's really sweet what your doing Sherlock." Hannah said as I tried to pass them. Watson raised his eyebrows.  
"How is it Hannah knows and I don't Holmes." I let out a breath and turned to face the good doctor.  
"I needed her help." I turned my head to glance at the woman on his side. "And you my dear really need to learn when to be quiet." She smiled with a gleam in her eyes.  
"Well Mr. Holmes, forgive me for thinking that deep down you actually can have feelings for something other than yourself." She placed her hand over Watson's.  
"What did he need your help with?"  
"We'll talk about it later John, we should let him go…he's on a time limit."

There was only one thought on my mind now, to reach my destination, and reach it quickly. It was getting late in the day and I wanted to make sure my package arrived on time. I had not yet informed Watson of my plans, I suppose now I would have to sooner than I had intended thanks to his precious Hannah. I briskly made my way through the cold cobblestone streets and squeezed my way into the gap behind the book store. Placing the package onto the ground I slowly pushed it into the wall with the tip of my shoe.  
"Do you think she'll get it?" I heard Hannah's voice from behind me. I chuckled lightly to myself, I should have known she would have come to make sure all went well.  
"I hope so." I told her quietly, gazing longingly into the glittering wall.  
"Will she know it's from you?"  
"Yes."  
"How?" She was eyeing me with curiosity, head cocked lightly to the side.  
I felt the corners of my mouth turn up "It's the little details that tell us the most."


	18. Missed

**Missed**

"What makes you so sure it's from him Sam?" Kyle asked. The three of us were scattered around my living room. Kyle on the couch, Stephen sat sideways in the recliner, and I was comfortably lying on the floor thumbing through my book.  
"The note for one."  
"It wasn't singed." Stephen said letting his head roll back onto the arm of the chair.  
"Didn't have to be. The condition it's in should be impossible for its age, but seeing that there it would only be thirty years old coming from there it wouldn't be hard to keep it in such good condition. And to top it off, behind that musky book smell is the same faint tobacco smell that is imbedded in my couch and guest room." I smiled and rolled over onto my back, clutching the book to my chest. "Is it pathetic how much I miss him?"  
"Yes." Both boys said dully in unison.  
"Gee thanks." I laughed "Glad to know you guys care."  
"Why don't you just go Sam…you know you want to." Kyle said sitting up on the couch.  
"I'd ruin him if I did that, it would change everything that he is." I sighed and let my eyes close.  
Somebody had made their way next to me on the floor, I could feel their breath on my face.  
"I think it's a little late for that Sammy." Kyle whispered into my ear then placed kiss on my head. "You deserve to be happy. I better get home."  
"How was your date by the way?" I called after him.  
"Great, I'm seeing her again next week"  
"Good for you Kyle, good for you." I said quietly as he shut the door behind him. I pushed up from the floor and collapsed into the couch.  
"Don't you realize you have a bed?" Stephen smirked.  
"Don't judge me Stephen. Thank you by the way."  
"For what Sam?"  
"Looking after me and all."  
I felt him ruffle my hair as I drifted off to sleep. "You're my sister Samantha, I'll always be there for you."

It felt good to get back to my normal routine, waking up at the ass crack of dawn to begin baking then staying throughout the day keeping my shop afloat. Kyle was glad that I had returned to my normal work schedule, he preferred to work only one job. I missed the glorious smell that flowed from the ovens as I pulled them out one by one, I could have lived without burning myself several times in a row, but that's just become part of who I am.  
It had been three days since I received my heartfelt token from the wall, and my thoughts went back to Sherlock more and more with each passing moment as I sat staring out the window of my quiet shop. As much as I wished I could go to him, I knew it was out of the question. Just knowing that he was still thinking about me was enough to keep me content at the moment.  
"You doing ok Samantha?" Stephen asked placing a hand on my shoulder.  
"Mmmhmm" I sat at the window table sipping my tea. "Hey Stephen can you take over for a few hours? I think I'm going to go upstairs and take a nap. I'll be back to help close up."  
"No problem Sam."  
"Great." The timer beeped from the kitchen. "I'll pull those pans out then she's all yours." Managing to burn myself once more I took the croissants from the oven. "Never fails." I mumbled to myself.  
"You wanna know how many times I've done that this past week?" Stephen smirked leaning against the counter top.  
"Thrill me." I replied flatly.  
"Never-" He dragged out.  
"Ass." I swatted him with a towel on my way out.  
"Hey I'm going out with Kyle tonight so I probably won't be home until morning."  
"Whatever…" I could use a night alone anyway.

I headed back downstairs after a nice nap and slathering my arm in burn cream. A few regulars were scattered on the couch uttering hellos and attempting to make small talk as I switched places with Stephen for the rest of the night. The time slowly crept by and what seemed like ages later I was left all alone and ready to close up for the night. I clicked off the neon sign and went to count down the register, knocking over a jar of chocolate espresso beans on my way. "That's nice." I grumbled bending down to pick them up. The bell above the door let out that familiar jingle, I really need to remember to lock it after hours.  
"Sorry I'm closed." I called out, trying to sound cheery despite how annoyed I was that I was crawling around plucking up coffee beans. There was no reply, perhaps they left. No, nobody had left, I would have heard the bell again, then again I could have imagined the bell ringing to begin with. "Oh well" I muttered before hauling my self off the floor. I tossed the beans in the trash and turned around.

My heart stopped beating completely, and I ceased to breathe.  
"Please madam, can you tell me the date?" Those dark brown eyes and devious smirk that I had missed so much was now standing a few feet from me. I ran to him and threw my arms around his neck crashing my lips into his. He returned my kiss just as frantic, his hand weaving its way into my hair. When we had the need to breathe we stood there wrapped in each others arms. One of his hands still entwined in my hair, the other stroking up and down my back.  
"I've missed you Sherlock…god how I've missed you."  
"Mmmm I've missed you too Samantha, immensely." He breathed into my neck, sending those welcoming chills throughout my body. He straightened up and locked those dark eyes onto mine. He leaned down and kissed me again, soft and slow, my hands holding on to the lapels of his coat. I reached down and took his hand in mine.  
"Come on." I whispered pulling him out the door.

We went up the seventeen steps to my apartment together, his hand rested on my lower back the entire way. He chuckled lightly as I opened the door.  
"What?" I grinned, watching him look at the mess he had left behind in amusement.  
"Hmmm…" He picked up the Alice book from off the couch cushion. "I must say this is a nice addition to your collection." He flashed me that sideways smile.  
"I knew it was from you." I grinned, moving closer to him. The past week had been agonizing and now that he was here I just wanted to feel his touch. He put the book down and turned to face me. I took another step. He mimicked my movements making the space between us less than a foot. He brought my arm up and traced the burn marks on the inside of my arm.  
"I see you haven't changed much." He said quietly  
"Have you?" I asked raising my eyebrows. He knew very well what I was questioning him about.  
"I assure you Samantha I have not gone back to my old habits, often they called to me yes, but after the situation I put you in while my system was getting cleaned out, I pushed my desires aside and let my thoughts linger on you." He tilted my chin up and placed his lips over mine, a hand went to my back and pulled me closer into him. I swiftly slipped off his coat and slowly began fidgeting with the buttons on his waist coat. His hand slipped under the back of my shirt, causing my breath to hitch by the direct heat of his touch on my skin. I opened my mouth letting his tongue glide over mine with a slick sweetness, causing me to let out a soft moan of approval. I moved on to undoing the buttons on his shirt, placing a kiss on his firm chest with each one, moving dangerously close to the top of his pants, pulling him towards my very neglected bedroom. We ended up backed into the wall, his lips now trailing down my neck and his hands firmly placed on my hips.  
"Do you have any idea how hard it has been for me Samantha? Almost two years I've waited for this." He growled against my skin.  
"Then stop talking." I said quietly, quickly undoing his belt and pulling it through the loops, letting it fall to the floor. Reclaiming my lips his hand went down and under my thigh, prompting me to wrap my legs around his waist. His lips never leaving mine as he spun me around and pushed the bedroom door open.

It had a long time since I had shared a bed with anyone, but it was never like this. We fit together perfectly. My back against his chest, his arm protectively draped over my waist, the warm breath on my shoulder. Everything felt so right.  
"Why did you neglect to tell me about your mother?" He whispered placing a kiss to my shoulder.  
Ruining my perfect moment. I let out a sigh of frustration and attempted to get out of bed. His grip around me tightened.  
"Sherlock please." I attempted to move again unsuccessfully.  
"Samantha…I'm sorry, I won't ask again."  
I rolled over in his arms "Yes you will…soon or a later you will." I took a breath and moved closer to him. "You were leaving, I didn't think it would matter."  
He kissed the top of my head. "Anything you decide to share with me matters."  
"I know you're going to leave again." I whispered into his chest.  
"We will have a little while, but yes I do intend to return to Baker Street…I also intend on coming back, it seems I lack the ability to stay away from you." I turned my head up and went in for a nice slow kiss.  
"Strange Mr. Holmes how I have managed to have such an affect on you." I grinned.  
"You have no idea Ms. Parker, what you do to me." Rolling over and pinning me under him.  
"I think I have a pretty good idea." I whispered before pulling his lips to mine.

**A/N I hope that was a decent reunion, I really don't have much experience writing such situations. Don't worry I think there is still much more to come in both of their futures :D**  
**Thanks for reading **  
**MUCH LOVE**  
**-Shelly**


	19. Mamma drama

**Mamma drama**

I wasn't expecting him to be there when I woke up. Don't ask me why. Maybe it was because I knew he didn't exactly have normal sleeping patterns, maybe it was because I thought it was to wonderful to be real and not a dream, yet there he was sleeping softly beside me, his warmth running wild through my body. I rolled over to face him surprised to see warm brown eyes staring back at me.  
"Good morning darling." He greeted me quietly, his grip tightening on my waist.  
"How long have you been awake?" I asked letting myself cozy up against him.  
"Hmmm…two hours, possibly three."  
"And you didn't get up?"  
"I found no desire to get up, I was rather content to watch you sleep…I've been thinking."  
"You're always thinking." I laughed causing a sweet smile to pull on his lips.  
"Mmmm."  
"So what has peaked your minds interest this morning?"  
He pressed a kiss to my head "I don't wish to bother you with my thoughts Samantha."  
"Oh please, you love to bother me." I rolled my eyes at him. "And now I'm curious."  
"I don't think it would be wise just yet."  
"Please," I said pressing a kiss to his chest "Pretty please." moving up to his lips. He groaned as I took his bottom lip into my mouth. "Well then?"  
He sighed and let his eyes close. "Your mother."  
I let out a frustrated puff of air before kicking off the covers and pulling on shorts and a shirt and storming out of the room. I locked myself in the bathroom, knowing that I shouldn't be upset, I did ask after all, but why did he have to go and bring it up so soon. He wasn't going to let this go, he'd just keep prying into my head until I gave in and gave him what he wanted. There was a light rapping on the door.  
"Samantha dear please open the door."  
"Go away Sherlock!"  
"Do you honestly want that after I have waited so long to see you?"  
No I didn't want him to leave, I wanted him to stop digging up the past.  
"Why can't you just let it be?"  
"I could help you clear your name darling…now please let me in." I really didn't want to go into this with him, but it was inevitable. I sat there against the tub with my head rested against my knees. My head was pounding, I wanted to close my eyes and open them back up to the sweet morning I started to have. God forbid he stops thinking for once and just enjoys the moment.  
"Samantha…" I heard him mumble softly through the door.  
I could just picture him out there with his head against the door, his hand lightly tracing circles around the knob. Those damn perfect chocolate eyes full of guilt. I picked up a rubber duck from the shelf above the tub and hurled it at the lock, hitting my target with a satisfying pop. The door opened slowly and he stepped onto the checkered floor gazing down with the guilt that I had guessed would be there. He held out his hand to me.  
"I tried to avoid this you know." He said softly as I slipped my hand into his allowing him to help me up.  
"I know." I muttered as he tugged me to my feet. I sighed and pushed the hair from my face. "What did she tell you?"  
"Only that you blamed your father." He looked away from me "and of your stay at an asylum."  
"I'm not insane Sherlock! She was murdered, I know she was."  
"I believe you dear."  
"Really?" He turned back to me an eyebrow raised in surprise.  
"You didn't think I would?"  
I shrugged my shoulders and gave him a lopsided grin. "Nobody else does, not even Stephen."  
"I do Samantha, and I truly would like to help."  
I wrapped my arms around his waist and breathed him in. "Thank you."  
"You're most welcome dear. Now I believe you best be on your way downstairs."  
"Yea…I suppose."  
"Where is your brother by the way?"  
"Let me guess, you could smell his aftershave, a shoeprint in the hall perhaps." I smirked.  
"The bag in the living room." He grinned "I did detect some sort of aftershave as well though."  
"He went out, probably crashed at someone else's place last night. He'll be back before lunch, usually is."  
"Hmmm."  
"You better come with me, you'll give him a heart attack if he comes back to some strange guy in my apartment."  
"Right."  
"Clothes in the guest room." I kissed him quickly and pushed him out the door.

Sherlock seemed quite content to sit the well worn couch in the shop and watch me work. The morning regulars came in excited about the curious new man that was seated on the couch.  
"Nice to know you do get out dearie, we'd all thought you lived in this place."  
"Thanks Mrs. Walsh"  
Sherlock smirked from his seat looking quite amused.  
"You know Samantha honey I worked just as much as you when I was young, but I still managed to come home and make time for Mr. Walsh." She said giving me an exaggerated wink.  
Sherlock almost choked on his tea.  
"Have a nice day Mrs. Walsh." I squeezed my eyes shut and did my best to smile as I sent her on her way.  
"Do they tend to share their life experiences with you?" He asked once the shop was empty again.  
"Unfortunately." I said sitting down beside him, handing him a muffin. "It will be dead for the next hour or two." I took a breath, the sooner I got this out in the open the better. "I know she was murdered Sherlock."  
"You don't have to do this now Samantha." He said placing a hand on my knee.  
"Yes I do."  
He nodded allowing me to continue. I told him of the glasses, the hair, the marks on her neck, their relationship troubles. How my life turned to alcohol and many restless nights, the many visits to the police station trying to convince them to treat it as a murder not a suicide. How I gave up and decided to go and see my father for myself. "He was already dead when I got there, single shot to the head. I had been following him for a while, and knew he had been in some sort of trouble but never guessed that it would lead to them killing him. The neighbors had already called the police, who arrived shortly after I did. A hysterical drunk teenage girl standing in a puddle of blood in her father's living room didn't exactly look too good."  
"Was there anything to suggest it wasn't you?" He asked quietly rubbing circles into my knee.  
"The kitchen window above the sink was broken from the outside, the flowerbed outside the window was a total wreck, blood smeared on the countertops. But I had a motive and was an easy target for arrest."  
"Hmmm…and you know who your father was in trouble with."  
"Santiago Rivera, he led some sort of gang out of downtown Atlanta Georgia." A few tears streaked silently down my face. "Hannah and Gram were the only ones who came to visit me, Kyle came a few times, but Hannah and Gram came at least twice a week. It was hard for me when I got out, nobody wants to hire a girl who spent two years in a nut house. Kyle convinced his parents to give me a job at their restaurant, and I slowly began to get back on my feet. Now here I am today. Living my simple life filled with baked goods and fictional characters."  
"I'll do what I can to clear you name Samantha, that I promise you." He said pulling me into his side.  
"How is my bubbly Hannah by the way?"  
"Mmmm, that girl and Watson are inseparable. I've had the misfortune of walking in on them more than once."  
"I figured that would happen." I laughed into him.  
"Yes, and she's adapted to living there quite well. I think she rather enjoys it."  
"That doesn't surprise me."

Stephen finally strolled through the bakery doors a little after 3 in the afternoon, looking refreshed and ready to begin his day. How someone could look so fresh and bright on obviously only a few hours of sleep I would never know.

"Glad to see you've joined the rest of the world today Stephen." I said dryly as he came behind the counter. "You feel like taking over for me?"  
"Always Sam." His eyes wandered over to Sherlock over on the couch.  
"He all taken care of?" He asked nodding in his direction.  
"You could say that" I grinned "He's with me."  
Stephen arched an eyebrow and looked over him curiously.  
"Is he….?"  
"Yes I am." Sherlock said getting up from the couch and approaching my brother. "I'm sure Samantha has told you all about me."  
"Couldn't keep her mouth shut." Stephen grinned sticking out his hand "Stephen Parker."  
"Sherlock Holmes."  
"So are you going to stick around this time, or you gonna tear my sisters heart in two again?"  
"Stephen!" I shot him a look that could kill.  
"What Sam? Don't deny it you were a horrible mess." He said glaring right back at me.  
"I assure you Mr. Parker, I care for your sister and it was never my intentions to hurt her. I can't apologize enough for what she must have been through but I do not intend to leave her that way again."  
Stephen looked back and forth between the two of us, my eyes pleading for him play nice.  
"Alright then, you two run off and enjoy your night." He said grinning wide.  
"You're an asshole Stephen." I said through gritted teeth.  
"But you love me!"  
"Only because you're my brother."

I ordered a pizza, which Sherlock incredibly ate half of as we sat on the couch enjoying each others company.  
"I suppose you'll be wanting to go to Atlanta"  
"I've thought about it yes." He put down the book he was buried in and turned his attention to me. "Is it far from here?"  
"Almost an eight hour drive." I hated driving, there was no way in hell I was driving all that way. "Or…a short flight."  
His eyebrows shot up.  
"Did you say flight my dear?"  
"Yea, on a big metal bird I the sky." I couldn't help but laugh at the shock on his face. "I think you'll like it." I grinned hopping up and mussing his hair.  
"I think not."  
"It's statistically safer than driving." I suggested bringing him a cup of tea from the kitchen. "You should go back for a few days and let Hannah and John know, we may be gone for a while."  
"Mmmm…yes I suppose I should."  
I leaned over and brushed a kiss against his scruffy cheek. "I'll leave a key on top of the door frame." as I walked my way into the bedroom.  
"I'll be back before you wake up Samantha."  
"I know, tell Hannah I said hello." I felt his arms slip around me from behind, I hadn't even heard him follow me down the hall.  
"Hours for you my dear, days for me." He whispered kissing down my neck, his hands trailing down to my waist. I turned my self around to face him.  
"Well I suppose I should give you something to remember my by." I breathed before slipping my hands under his shirt.

**Ok so its not the best chapter title in the world...but it works, I guess. I'm having problems working out this bathtub thing, have I mentioned I totally blow at coming up with mysteries. Show me love any way...it really makes me happy!  
-shelly** **  
**


	20. Breaking news

**Breaking News**

**(Holmes)**

It was rather troublesome leaving her so early, after going so long without being in her company, but Watson deserved to know, I was, after all, going to be gone longer than I had originally anticipated. Quietly I climbed the stairs to 221b Baker Street careful not to draw any unwanted attention to my self just yet. I grabbed my pipe stuffing it in my coat pocket not wanting to leave it behind. There was a commotion coming from the stairs, I stepped out side the door out of curiosity. Watson and Hannah were clamoring and stumbling their way up the stairs, holding onto one another for support.  
"Hi Sherlock!" My body stiffened as she threw her arms around me.  
"Madam what are you doing?" There was only one woman at present who I didn't mind coming into contact with and it was not this one. She withdrew her arms and smiled widely.  
"We've missed you!" She stumbled back into Watson's hold.  
"Nice to see you Holmes, we have indeed missed your company." Watson patted my shoulder, his cheekbones holding a small bit of red color.  
"I see you two have been out enjoying yourselves, a little too much perhaps."  
"What are you going on about Holmes?" Placing a hand on the rail, most likely to steady himself.  
"You manage to carry yourself well Watson, much more than your overenthusiastic companion. So what is the cause of this obvious celebration?" Hannah was practically bouncing in her place upon the stairs, Watson smiled slightly.  
"Nothing you need to worry your self with old boy."  
"We're getting married!" Hannah blurted out, her hand darting immediately to her lips.  
"Well then I believe congratulations are in order." Forcing a smile upon my lips and sticking my hand out to Watson. "I only came to collect a few things and to inform you that I will be gone longer than I originally anticipated." Removing my pipe from my pocket, letting it idly sit upon my mouth while I searched for a match.  
"You just couldn't resist could you, that poor girl must be livid with you." Watson proceeded past me into his room. Hannah was quick to follow.  
"Mmmm I won't deny the fact that she was indeed upset with me."  
"And now." He stopped and turned at the doorway.  
"She understands how I work, she knows I was merely trying to help." Giving up on the match I returned the pipe back into my pocket."  
"Help with what John." Hannah whispered from his side. I knew he wouldn't answer her, he didn't want her to think about the pain her friend back home had been faced to remember. I narrowed my eyes to the pair of them waiting for the girl to ask again.  
"John? What is he talking about?" She touched his upper arm, pleading with her hazel eyes for an answer. Watson closed his eyes and took a deep breath preparing to speak.  
"Her parents." I cut in, before he had the time to say the words himself. Her grip on Watson's arm tightened as the color drained from her normally bright face.  
"You really are an asshole, you know that right?" She whispered.  
"I believe that word has passed through your lips before madam." I muttered.  
"Hasn't she been through enough already, then when you finally show back up into her life you spring that on her, you couldn't even let her enjoy one normal day with you!" Her face was growing redder by the second. "You don't deserve her you know, she let you in when nobody else in that damned town would have, she trusted you out of instinct and you've hurt her more than you'll ever know." She released her hold on Watson and walked into the room slamming the door behind her.  
"Why must they do that?" I groaned running a hand through my hair.  
"It must be your charming personality that sends women away slamming doors." Watson replied dryly.  
"That's not what I was referring to." I mumbled beneath my breath before retreating to my own room.

My intentions were truly not meant to upset my dear Samantha, surely she realized that. Other than Watson I don't think anyone knows how I operate more than she. I allowed my fingers to trace the watch in my pocket while I sunk down into my armchair. Mrs. Hudson had brought up the tea tray nearly an hour ago setting it down atop a pile of books, and there it sat until it was long past the point of being cold. I was in no mood for tea, I was in no mood for this place, and clearly the soon to be Mrs. Watson was in no mood to deal with me. The light bounced of the Moroccan case that sat nestled upon the bookshelf catching my eye. Staring down at the small scars and bumps that lined my left arm and wrist. There was no denying that the hunger was there, Watson had told me it was only a matter of time before the beast within me awakens and plunges that sweet piston home.  
No.  
Not now, I couldn't go back to her if I caved in to my dark desires and let my mind slip in to the velvet ecstasy that I had taken much pleasure many times in the past not so long ago.  
No.  
I would stay here and sort out things with Watson and his soon to be bride for several days before I return to my new drug of choice. The drug I found where I never would have thought to look, in the arms of the woman who had awoken emotions in me that I thought were long dead.

**(Samantha)**

I had almost forgotten how much I loved this time of year, I didn't even bother running the heat tonight the cold seeping in through the cracks of the windows were quickly forgotten once I was under the comfort of my down blankets. I needed to find a way to get Sherlock some sort of identification, and explain to him how the security works at Jacksonville airport. That was going to be a drive itself. A fun filled hour or so with a curious and chatty Sherlock. The room began to fade away as I breathed in the musky tobacco scent I had come to love so much was now embedded in my pillows. I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep

I don't remember if it was the sudden warmth at my back, or the feather light kiss to my head that had me turning over to be met by those eyes I longed to wake up next to. I automatically molded my body into his as he wrapped his arms around me.  
"How'd it go?" I mumbled into the comfort of his hold.  
"Shhh go back to sleep Samantha, we can talk in the morning." His breath hot against my cool skin.  
"What time is it?"  
"Half past two."  
"Then it is the morning."  
I felt him chuckle against me. "I suppose, but you need to rest darling, we'll discuss things in the morning."  
I was much too tired to continue our banter and much too comfortable in a moment I was afraid was going to be ruined at any moment. I lifted my head bringing my lips to his before cradling my back against his chest.  
"Goodnight Sherlock."  
"Goodnight Samantha." He whispered into my hair before his breathing slipped into a steady rhythm which I followed soon after.

The tempting smell of bacon invaded my nose jerking me from under the covers.  
"Oh god! He's gonna burn the place down!" Pulling on an over-sized t-shirt I dashed out of bed and into the kitchen. To my surprise there were already two plates sitting on my small round kitchen table. Tea, bacon and eggs there probably would have been toast if my toaster hadn't met an early demise.  
There he stood in the middle of it all with a smug look on his face.  
"Good morning dear."  
"How did you…?" I ran my hand up the back of my head letting it get lost in my messy bed hair.  
"Your little friend Hannah showed me how to operate your stove."  
"Hannah isn't here…and I doubt your stove is anything like mine."  
"On the contrary darling. Both Watson and your Hannah decided to come back with me." He took his seat across from me, eyes bright and hopeful.  
"Ok. And she showed you this when?"  
"Once we returned we traveled to her home and she thought it would be useful information to me."  
"And you didn't put up a fight." I asked curiously, raising an eyebrow at him.  
"She had mentioned…some things…that…that I…ummm…made me…" He looked slightly worried now, reaching out and grabbing my hand. "She…she made me…umm…feel…uh…"  
I scrunched up my face and tried to hold in a giggle.  
"She made you feel what Mr. Holmes." I smirked.  
"I….uh…." He cleared his throat.  
"She made you feel guilty didn't she?" I grinned. He didn't speak, he didn't even look my way as he played with the bacon on his plate. "Don't. She was just looking out for me you know. What ever she said don't worry about it. And this" I waved my arms around the kitchen "This. As sweet as it is, is way out of character for you." I popped a piece of bacon into my mouth. "Wow…and really good."  
His eyes smiled from behind his mug of tea.  
"Your brother has offered to take care of your shop while we are gone, Hannah also agreed to help him out with things."  
"Is he still sleeping?" I asked lazily stirring my tea.  
"No. He awoke rather early to take over for you so you could make the proper arrangements."  
I smiled to myself and chuckled lightly. Stephen did have his wonderful brotherly moments every now and then. Sitting in silence I continued to eat and go over travel plans in my head, absentmindedly rubbing my temples. Tuning everything out came easy to me, it helped me delve deeper into my mind. I let my eyes close as my thoughts swam around in my head. I didn't even know where to begin once we reached Atlanta, lord knows what propelled me to do this with out much planning.  
"Samantha…" I heard my name called from far away. "Samantha…" A hand landed on my shoulder, causing me to inhale sharply and slowly open my eyes. "Is everything all right?" Sherlock was standing In front of me, I didn't even notice that he had gotten up.  
"I need to talk to Kyle." Kyle knew people, all kinds of people, more than likely he had a few shady contacts willing to pop out a passport for some cash. "We need to get you some sort of identification, Kyle should be able to help."  
"Identification for what?"  
"You need a proper ID to get your self onto the plane. I figure a passport will do in your case," I heard the front door scrape against the carpet, not two seconds later a pair of arms were thrown around me from behind.  
"Sammy!" Hannah's voice cried out while she dangled from my back. "I've missed you tons Sam!"  
"I can see that" I laughed as she released me. Watson stood behind her grinning widely.  
"Hello Samantha."  
"Hi John. I hear things are going well for the two of you."  
"You could say that."  
"We're getting married Sam!" Hannah said pulling up and down on my arm.  
"What? Seriously Hannah?" She shook her head rapidly, eyes lighting up like the fourth of July. I shot a look at Sherlock who was idly leaning against the door frame.  
"You knew about this didn't you?" I narrowed my eyes at him. "Why didn't you say anything?"  
"I thought it'd be best you hear it from her rather than me." He replied shoving his hands into his pants pockets. I shook my head and turned my attention back to the rather excited Hannah.  
"Your parents are going to freak."  
"You're not happy for me?" She pouted grabbing my hands her eyes slightly glossy.  
"Of course I'm happy for you." I laughed. "But what will they say when you tell them your getting married to a guy you've only known a few weeks."  
"Oh please Sam it's been two years." She scoffed.  
"For you."  
"We could explain it to them." She suggested shrugging her small shoulders.  
"Well I think I'll leave that part up to you." I grinned. "In the meantime you can go with me over to Kyle's."  
"What's at Kyle's?"  
"Hopefully somebody sleazy looking to make some quick cash." I said pulling on my brown and yellow tweed coat. "I'll try to be back soon alright?" I said meeting Sherlock's eyes who replied by way of a simple nod. Hannah gave Watson a swift kiss before following me out the door.

**A/N I'm going to toot my own horn and say I'm rather happy how my Holmes half turned out. Samantha on the other hand is more of a filler so for that I apologize. Getting ready for that plane ride, I have a few things in mind for that, hopefully they will amuse you! As usual let me know what you think, good, bad, whatever I appreciate anything thrown my way.**  
**MUCH LOVE!**  
**-Shelly**


	21. Different Faces

**Different Faces**

When you work in downtown St. Augustine, it's much easier to live there. Luckily Kyle thought the same way I did and lived within walking distance.  
He opened the door to his small downstairs duplex. Hair in disarray, clad in his pajamas, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.  
"Christ Sam. You are aware that I work nights and usually sleep through most of the morning right?" He nodded for us to come in  
"So Hannah how's life in the 19th century?" He asked fumbling with the ancient coffee pot that was probably older than he was.  
"Great. John and I are…" I nudged her side before she could finish.  
"You and John are what?"  
"Are…here for a visit."  
Kyle arched his eyebrows in suspicion.  
"Kyle I need your help." I asked, pulling his attention away from Hannah.  
"What ever you need sweet pea." Stretching his arms above his head.  
"I need a passport…" I pressed my lips together and squeezed my eyes shut "…for Sherlock."  
"Not that."  
"Kyle please."  
"Nuh uh, no way Sammy. Do you know what kind of trouble that can get you in? I don't want to be responsible for that." He sunk down into the leather couch cushions.  
"It's to dangerous Sam."  
"Look Kyle I wouldn't be asking if it wasn't important. I am well aware of the risks…but I need to do this. Please Kyle It means a lot to me."  
Kyle looked over at Hannah "What's she planning?" He asked tilting his head in my direction.  
"Why don't you ask her?"  
"She won't tell me. You know that."  
"Well maybe you should just trust her then." Hannah's smile was warm but her voice was firm.  
Kyle hung his head down and ran his fingers through his shaggy brown hair.  
"Alright Sam." I started to speak, but he lifted a finger signaling me to hold my tongue.  
"I know this guy, David Santiago, he owes me a few favors. He's good at what he does, and he'll do it for a reasonable price." He grabbed a pen from the coffee table and scribbled down something on a napkin. "Here, this is his address, I'll call him after you leave and let him know you're on your way." Handing me the napkin and pulling me in for a tight hug.  
"Be careful Sammy, I'd kill myself if something happened to you."  
"Thanks Kyle, you're the best."  
"Yea, yea, whatever. Now go on get out of here, call me when you get back from wherever."

David Santiago didn't live in the best part of town, Hannah quickly pushed down the lock on her door as we drove past shady characters and chain link fences filled with not so nice looking dogs. You could practically hear the crime rate building as we traveled through the dumpy maze of streets.  
"You sure about this Sammy?" She was busy staring out the window clutching her purse with a vice like grip.  
"Hey I know it looks rough, but I trust Kyle" I winced and bit my bottom lip as we pulled into the run down driveway, complete with a group of guys clutching their bottles in paper sacks huddling around the door. "Thank the lord for pepper spray."  
"Sam there is no way in hell you're going out there." Her eyes wide taking in her surroundings.  
"I am. You can hang here if you'd like." I smirked grabbing hold of the black container on my keychain. Pushing the door open leaving her behind. Her door opened seconds later and she was immediately by my side. "That's what I thought" I laughed.  
"Shut up."  
"You lost sweetheart?" A big guy clothed in a dirty wife beater and torn up jeans, covered in tattoos and reeking of alcohol asked as we approached the front door.  
"We'd be happy to give you directions" Another one winked at us running his tongue over his teeth. Hannah grabbed onto my arm tightly.  
"I bet you'd be happy to give me more than directions" I said dryly raising my eyebrows.  
"Ooohh she's a feisty one Jimmy" Came the big man's reply.  
"I'm here to see David Santiago."  
"And who are you honey?"  
"Friend of a friend. That's all you need to know."  
The big man smirked "I like you kid, your friend there needs to loosen up." Nodding in Hannah's direction, her grip on me tightening even more. "Come on, he's inside."  
The group parted and allowed us entry to the house.

Surprisingly the house was nothing you would have expected considering the vibe that was pulsating on the other side of the door. Everything was neat and in its proper place, some vintage art scattered along the walls, family photos on the end tables, law books on the coffee table.  
"Not quite what you were expecting huh honey?" The big man asked.  
"Sam. My name is Sam." He smiled making his tough exterior vanish slightly.  
"I'm Paul, David's brother. Our parents are both lawyers expecting us to follow in their footsteps. Well that's not going to happen, I'm into cars and well David…he has enough computer smarts to hack into the FBI."  
He knocked on the door we had stopped in front of in the middle of the hall.  
"Hey David, got a couple of girls here for you."  
"Let 'em in!" A small voice called through the door.  
The room was cluttered, books and papers thrown all over every spare surface.  
"You Kyle's friends?" He was the skinniest thing I had every seen, looked like he weighed 90 pounds soaking wet. His dark hair matted to his head, glasses hung from a button hole in his shirt.  
"He told me you'd do a good job."  
"Sam this guys a total dweeb!" Hannah whispered into my side.  
"That's why I'm so good dear, you think GQ models can do what I do." He said through thin lips and narrowed eyes. He turned his attention to me turning a corner of his mouth up. "So what can I do ya for?"  
"Passport. I need to get through airport security. I'll tell you he's 5'8, mid forties, and from London, the rest is up to you. Can you handle that?"  
"You got cash?" He grinned.  
I pulled the wad from my pocket and let it fall onto his computer desk.  
"I'll send it over with Kyle tomorrow, all you need to do is get a picture."  
"Thanks." He was already immersed into the computer as he waved his hand over his shoulder signaling  
us to leave.

We stopped at rainbow travel on the way and picked up a couple of tickets, a straight flight was a considerable amount more but the idea of dealing with him on multiple flights didn't exactly excite me. The two of them were asleep when we got back, Sherlock splayed out across the recliner and Watson on the couch. Hannah quietly lured Watson from his nap and led him towards the door.  
"We'll I suppose I'll go ahead and pack, wanna give me a ride to the airport tomorrow night?"  
"I had planned on it." Hannah said grinning "You're going to need all the help you can get."  
"Don't remind me. I'll see you tomorrow then."  
"See ya!"  
I gently tossed a blanket over his sleeping form, he stirred a little at the touch but didn't wake up. The peacefulness in his features awed me. I wondered if his mind is as busy while he was asleep as it was while he was awake.

I couldn't help but feel we were going on a wild goose chase that would lead to nothing. My mother was killed ten years ago, her case had been closed over 8 years, and we were going to have one hell of a time digging up any kind of dirt on the scum named Santiago Rivera. I zipped up the last suitcase and sat down on the bed pulling my knees to my chest. All I ever wanted was for them to give me a chance, they chose to ignore me and the screamingly large details that were in both the hotel room and my father's apartment. How could they ignore something so painfully obvious? There was no second guessing when they put me in that hell hole, two years of isolating myself and taking depression meds.  
"Is something the matter Samantha?" His calming tone pulled me from my thoughts. Lifting my head from my knees I looked up to see him standing at the foot of the bed.  
"I'm alright," I got up from the bed and stood In front of him "I need a to take your picture." I said softly smoothing out the wrinkles on his shirt.  
"Whatever for?"  
"For your passport, so you can get on the plane."  
"Mmmm…I must admit I am quite curious about this air travel."  
"I know, but please for the love of god try to restrain your curiosity…the last thing I need if for them to detain you for suspicious behavior." I said grabbing my camera from the nightstand and placing him in front of an empty spot in the wall.  
"I wouldn't intentionally draw intention to myself Samantha."  
"I know, now say cheese."  
One side of his mouth twitched up slightly. Well it was certainly the most flattering identification picture I had ever seen, unlike the horrid thing on my driver's license.

"You're worried."  
"I'm fine."  
"There really isn't any point in lying to me Samantha."  
I was lying back on the couch with my head in his lap, his fingers idly stroking my arm. A position I was quickly becoming accustomed to.  
"Fine. Maybe I'm a little worried, but I'll be fine."  
"Mmmm"  
"Hey," I said sitting up so I could be at his level "Lets go on a ghost tour, Kyle's working. It'll be a fun night out before we throw ourselves into this mess."  
"Hmmm…."  
"Oh come on, you'll learn a bit about our haunted history." I got up from the couch pulling him reluctantly to his feet. I pulled a little too hard once he was up and my socks slid down the carpet. He was close enough to quickly wrap an arm around my middle and keep me upright.  
"Are you alright?" He looked down at me using his other hand to push the hair out of my eyes.  
"Mmhmmm" I nodded.  
Ever so slowly he brought his lips down over mine.  
"If you keep that up I just may have to trip more often," I smirked.  
"For some reason I don't think I'd mind that dear."  
"We should go."  
"Must we?" He came down again, easing his way into my mouth slipping his hand beneath the back of my shirt.  
"Mmmm," I gently placed my hands on his chest slightly pushing him away "We'll continue this later." I grinned pecking his cheek, making sure I stayed away from those impossible to resist lips.  
"Indeed." He took my coat from the couch and slipped it over me before placing a gentle hand on my back to lead me out.

We were lucky enough to hop aboard one of Kyle's tours, it would make for an exciting night he always managed to lure the crowd in. Talking quietly to make sure they all paid attention, making sure his timing was perfect enough to make them jump at his command.  
Sitting along the wall in the old Spanish Military Hospital, Kyle standing in the center of the room with nothing but an old rigged up lantern to dimly light the room.  
"The hospital itself was built in the late 1700's but in 1821 the city discovered that several of the water lines needed replacing," he took his time circling slowly around the lantern hands in his pockets. "In order to replace the lines they had remove the entire building and rebuild. Upon breaking into the ground" He lowered his voice slightly.  
"They discovered thousands, and thousands of human skeletal remains."  
He removed his hands from his pockets and clasped them behind his back, returning to the middle of the room.  
"A local research group led us to believe that the property was some sort of Timucuan burial ground. The Timucuan people were native to the area of St. Augustine long before the hospital had been built.-To this day the workers say they can feel a certain sense of evilness in, right here in this room…that they can almost smell the lingering death in the air."  
Kyle gently nudged the lantern with the tip of his shoe causing the flame to flicker and go out.  
A woman next to Sherlock let out a small shriek and grabbing onto his knee.  
"Come now woman surely you can see that his…"  
"Sherlock," I interrupted  
"Hmmm?"  
I shook my head silently.  
"Right, never mind madam, just please leave me out of your grabbing's."  
I saw Kyle smirk as he motioned us out of the room and back onto the trolley. Quickly finding our way to a bench in the back, as far away from the group as possible.  
"I honestly don't know how they fail to notice a simple rigged lantern." He mumbled into my side.  
"Because they aren't paying attention to the lantern, they are too busy getting wrapped up in the story"  
"It was quite amusing." He chuckled.  
"I thought you would enjoy that." I grinned pushing into his shoulder.  
We stayed in the back for the remainder of the tour snickering at the unsuspecting tourists aboard our trolley of the doomed. Every now and then we would earn a glare from Kyle who was not to happy with us heckling his tour group. By the time we were done were standing on the street laughing so much we had to lean on one another for support.  
"I wish I had a much fun scaring them as you two did pestering them." Kyle deadpanned, coming over to join us.  
"C'mon Kyle we were just having a little fun." I laughed, wiping the dampness from my eyes.  
"Yes do lighten up old boy we didn't do any harm." Sherlock grinned holding on to my elbow to better steady me.  
"Didn't do any harm? That pine needle you dragged across that woman's neck almost had her pissing herself." Kyle said sternly.  
I tried to contain my laughter "Sorry Kyle I….it…" I broke down again, Sherlock quickly tightening his grip on me, breaking into his own fit of giggles.  
"Did you…did you see that man….he…oh he nearly jumped out of his trousers when I muttered something about a mouse!"  
"You two are impossible." Kyle groaned throwing up his hands and leaving.  
"Thank you Samantha dear, I did enjoy myself." He smiled holding his hand out to help me off the curb. "We best get you home, your hands are freezing." He rubbed them between his own.  
"I'm just glad you agreed, everyone needs to relax and have fun every now and then, I never even caught you wandering off in that head of yours."  
"I was rather occupied influencing the minds of others." He grinned.  
"Let's go then. The quicker we get there the quicker you can warm me up." I said, lifting my self on my toes to give him a quick kiss, before pulling him in the direction of my cozy little apartment.

**A/N Boy oh boy was that long enough for you. I tried my best to squeeze a bit of fluff in there since Holmes was absent for most of this. I promise the plane is next…I know I've been teasing you with it for a little while now. Read, review and enjoy!**  
**-Shelly**


	22. Up Up and Away

**Up Up and Away**

The flow of the hot water sank into my cool skin bringing my body temperature back up to a comfortable level.  
What could be better than standing in a steamy hot shower after being out on a cold night?  
I squeezed the water from my hair and wrapped a fluffy blue towel around my now pleasantly warm body. I opened the bathroom door allowing the steam to flow out into the hall.  
Sherlock was propped up against the doorframe, eyebrow raised and a devilish grin plastered on his devious face.  
"I thought I was to have the task of warming you up," He traced a single finger from my shoulder to my finger tips, sending that familiar yet welcome jolt through my veins.  
"I still seem to be a little cold," I whispered watching a finger from his other hand slide down my other arm. My breath had already begun to quicken.  
"Hmmm, you do appear to be shivering, if only just a little," His hands found their way to the bottom of the towel his fingers ever so lightly grazing my thighs. Leaning in he pressed soft kisses on my neck, lapping up the droplets of water that lingered there. My breath shuddered as he moved up my neck and took my earlobe into his mouth, earning a soft moan of approval. I laced my fingers under the hem of his shirt swiftly pulling it over his head. It was his breath that hitched this time, as my hands slid down his chest before moving around to his back, lightly dragging my nails across his skin.  
"I never thought a simple touch could send such a feeling through my body," His voice husky against my neck.  
"Shh," I covered his lips with my own letting my tongue drag across his bottom lip before he let me in groaning as I slid into his mouth, my hand buried in his hair pulling him further into me. He turned me around and braced me against the wall, a hand creeping up my towel further up my thigh. I already had his belt removed and tossed along the floor; my thumbs went through the belt loops pulling him closer causing him to groan into my mouth. Fingers still linked in the loops of his pants I backed down the hall tugging him into the bedroom. Unfastening his pants, I let them fall to the floor before slowly pushing him down onto the bed, crawling over him, letting my damp hair fall in front of my face. He sat up pulling me further onto his lap, gently pushing my hair back cupping my cheek, rubbing it with his thumb. I turned my head placing a kiss to the inside of his palm.  
"Oh Samantha," He whispered claiming my mouth with his own. I returned his kiss greedily wrapping my legs around his waist as he found the fold in the towel quickly tossing it across the room.  
"I need you Sherlock," Gently I tugged on his bottom lip, "now." His eyes were dark as that familiar grin spread across his face before he flipped me over pinning me beneath him.  
Defiantly much better than a hot shower.

There was no desire in me to leave the warmth I found buried in his side, but there were still things to be done and reluctantly I slid out from his hold to prepare for our journey.  
There was a light knocking at the door just as the tea kettle began to whistle.  
A very tired, very grouchy looking Kyle, stood there holding a manila envelope in his hands.  
"This is from David," He said handing me the envelope. "Now before the world interrupts me again I'd like to go back to sleep. Enjoy your…whatever it is your doing," He grumbled as he started to shuffle back down the stairs.  
Opening the envelope, I let the small red book slide out into my hands. Kyle had been right, he really was good. David had successfully turned Sherlock into Thomas Anthony Ashbury. Born July 13th 1964 in London England. I dug the small photo printer out from the back of the hall closet and printed out the picture that would kick start his new identity.

It was nearly noon when Sherlock emerged from the bedroom, his hair going every which way, wiping the sleep from his eyes.  
"So glad you decided to join me" I smirked as he plopped himself down in the recliner.  
"Yes well…it would seem I was more tired than I appeared to be."  
"Have a look at the new you" I tossed him the passport.  
"Thomas? Do you think I look like a Thomas darling?" He grinned raising an eyebrow at me.  
"Could be worse, he could have named you Edmund or something."  
"I suppose," He muttered flipping the small book over in his hands.

We took my car to the airport; I decided it was best to sit with Sherlock in the back seat to keep him from fidgeting with any sort of dials within his reach. With no gadgets to stimulate his mind, he decided to dig into mine.  
"How long will our air travel be?"  
"Little over an hour."  
"But if we were to drive you said it would take approximately 8 hours?"  
"Yes."  
"You're sure it's safe?"  
"Yes."  
"Well I don't see how, this contraption goes fast enough. How can something that travels significantly faster be safer?"  
"Just is." He was staring at the window, looking at me every now and then, rambling on and on. I was tired, annoyed, and quickly loosing my patience.  
"How many people will be traveling with us?"  
"A couple hundred."  
"Hmm…and you've done this before?"  
"Many times Sherlock."  
"Is it a large city?"  
"Yes."  
"Larger than yours?"  
"Much bigger."  
"How much bigger?"  
"Sherlock please!" He turned his attention from the window blinking his eyes at me. "I'm getting a headache."  
He nodded once before turning his attention back to the moving scenery outside.

"Do you just want me to drop you two off, or should I park in the garage?" Hannah asked as we pulled into the airport. Sherlock was centimeters away from having his face pressed against the window trying to catch a glimpse of the landing planes.  
"Park, two of us will be better than one," I placed a hand on his knee "are you ready Mr. Ashbury?"  
He nodded, smiling softly.  
"You can talk Sherlock," I laughed, "I just wanted you to cool it with the questions."  
"It was not my intentions to annoy you Samantha. I was simply curious." He was gazing at me with warm eyes.  
"I know," I whispered squeezing his knee lightly.  
"Come on you two; let's get this show on the road." Hannah was already out of the car and had the bags pulled out of the trunk.

The attendant at the check in counter did not even look twice as Sherlock's passport as she checked us in.  
"How many bags honey?"  
"Two and a carryon." I replied placing them on the scale.  
"Alright dear, enter in your information on the screen."  
This caught Sherlock's attention.  
"How fascinating." He said under his breath, peering over my shoulder close enough to feel the warmth on my neck.  
"Not really. Now will you stop?" I grumbled out of the corner of my mouth.  
"Samantha dear can I just…" He began to reach around me towards the screen. I quickly batted his hand away.  
"No, leave it alone."  
"I just want to…"  
"No."  
"Let me try and…"  
"NO." I spat out, causing our check in girl to eye us in suspicion. "Sorry, he doesn't fly much…this is all… a little new for him." I did my best to plaster on a sweet smile.  
"That's alright dear," She placed the bags on the belt behind her and handed me our tickets. "Enjoy your flight."  
"Thanks." I looped my arm through Sherlock's and started dragging him back to where Hannah was waiting.  
"What of your bags?"  
"They go under the plane and we will get them in Atlanta."  
"So why not that one?" He asked nodding to the one clutched in my hand.  
"This one comes with us, there's a few books, some Oreos, puzzle book, a few bottles of water…"  
"Things to keep me busy." He whispered frowning slightly.  
"Sherlock…"  
"I understand." Unlatching his arm from mine and stuffing his hands into his pockets, quickening his pace.  
"Don't be like that," Shifting the bag over my shoulder trying to catch up with him. "Will you stop, let me explain."  
"Explain precisely what madam?" Turning sharply on his heel to face me.  
"Yes they are things to keep you busy. There are going to be plenty of things that will peak your interest while boarding, but when you seated there won't be much for you to do. I can't stop your mind from wandering, and I would never want to," I grabbed one of his hands in mine. "They are things to keep you entertained, not to keep you out of my hair."  
"Oh," He looked down and away from my eyes.  
"You guys all set?" Hannah asked, bouncing on her feet.  
"Yea, you can't go past security so you'll have to leave us here." I gave her a quick hug "I'll try to be back as quickly as possible."  
"Good luck Sam," She did her best to straighten her self up a few inches "and you make sure she's safe." She poked Sherlock in the chest.  
"I give you my word madam."  
"Good."

Thankfully, the security line wasn't that long; at least I could try to get through this quickly.  
"Ok, so when it's your turn you need to remove your coat and shoes and empty your pockets just to be safe." I said from behind him.  
"What is the point in that?"  
"You put them in a bin that goes through an x-ray machine, to make sure you're not taking anything you're not supposed to."  
"But I'm not."  
"Everyone has to do it, it's a standard procedure."  
"Hmmm." He furrowed his eyebrows.  
"Then you walk through an archway to make sure there is nothing on the rest of you."  
"How interesting. How does that work exactly?"  
"How the hell am I supposed to know? It just does."  
I noticed a small smirk escape his lips. "Electromagnetic device no doubt."  
"Then why did you ask." I grunted pulling off my sneakers, holding onto his arm for support.  
"It was just a question Samantha," He grinned as he helped me to steady myself.  
He remained quiet the rest of the way through the security line, hands clasped behind his back.

I left him at the window over looking the tarmac to go buy some Advil before it was too late. I couldn't help but laugh at the sight of him standing there watching the planes take off with awe in his eyes. He looked like a mix between a kid in a candy shop and a kid about to get a flu shot.  
"Are you afraid?" I asked gently laying a hand on his back.  
"Afraid? No. Nervous and admittedly a little excited." His eyes following each plane down the runway.  
"Good, cause its time to go."

I was sandwiched between Sherlock and a rather large man with a beard, behind us a woman with a baby. Great, what a fabulous flight this was going to be.  
The flight attendants started their seatbelt and safety shpeal.  
"What on earth does she mean in case of an accident?" He whispered to me through wide eyes.  
"It's a safety speech, don't worry about it, it's a quick flight, we'll be fine."  
The plane started to creep slowly down the runway. Sherlock jumped slightly in his seat at the movement, leaning over me to watch out the window, stopping for a moment with a question in his eyes.  
"Go ahead; I expected you'd want to watch."  
His grip on my legs tightened a bit as the plane picked up speed and began to lift off the ground, I felt his breath quicken slightly against me.  
"Well?" I asked, "What do you think?"  
"Amazing, simply amazing." He watched in wonder as we rose above the clouds into a blue abyss.  
"Well there you go; you are now flying in the air at high speeds." I said as he leaned back into his own seat. His eye caught the overhead controls, quickly reaching up and clicking the light on.  
"Hmmm…" He clicked the lamp back off, only to reach up and push it on again.  
And again.  
And again.  
"Now that you know what it does can you please stop." I was busy fishing for a bottle of water so I could swallow my Advil early.  
He sat still for a moment tapping his fingers against his legs. He reached up again and pushed the next button. A cool blast of air shot him in the face, causing him to jump slightly before quickly turning it off. He turned the vent slightly and pushed the button again the air now blowing cold in my eyes. I shot him a warning look signaling him to turn it back off. I put my headphones in my ears and closed my eyes trying to relax.  
Another cold jolt of air met my face.  
Sherlock was chuckling beside me.  
"You're just plain awful you know that?" I scoffed, narrowing my eyes at him.  
He replied by gently blowing in my face with a wide grin.  
The baby behind us began to stir, whining slightly as its mother tried to calm it down from her seat. Whining led to fussing, fussing led to soft sobs, sobbing led to crying and crying eventually led to full out wailing that went of for well over 15 minutes.  
"What is gods name is wrong with that child!" Sherlock groaned through gritted teeth.  
"Just try to tune it out Sherlock." I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and heard him shift closer to me in his seat.  
"You can't possibly tune out such an annoyance Samantha."  
I opened one eye in order to look at him, "I can manage to tune you out." I smirked.  
He opened his mouth to say something before realizing there was no point and sitting back up in his seat.  
The baby continued to pitch a fit, I could feel Sherlock tensing up beside me.  
"Will you please quiet that baby woman!"  
I opened my eyes to see him leaned over in the isle staring at the mother with dark eyes. The baby surprisingly went quiet.  
I placed a hand on his shoulder and guided him back into his chair.  
"I'm sorry Samantha, but I could not tolerate that any longer." His eyes were soft now and apologetic.  
I gently squeezed his hand, "Thank you," I whispered, before letting my eyes close reveling in the silence.

I had ended up dozing off and was now being awoken by an extremely flirtatious female giggle.  
"Oh Mr. Ashbury please!"

Ashbury? Wait, my Ashbury? Was she flirting with Sherlock?  
I let one of my eyes open half way to see said floozy stewardess with her hip propped up against his seat.  
"Come now dear, surely you know the captain of this aircraft."  
"Yes I do."  
"And I'm sure a girl of your nature could get me in to see his workspace with ease."  
"Wont your girlfriend get mad?"  
I quickly closed my eye.  
"She is my traveling companion, nothing more."  
Nothing more? Oooh that arrogant ass was charming her right out of her skirt.  
"So what do you say my dear, could I have a look around up there?"  
"Perhaps I could arrange for a private tour Mr. Ashbury." Her tone as dark and seductive.  
He chuckled lightly, "I think that I wou…."  
Roughly using his knees as a brace, I pushed myself up and attempted to move past his newfound flirtatious friend.  
"Excuse me!" I brushed her shoulder a little rougher than I should have, "I have to use the restroom."  
Stomping to the back of the plane, I locked myself in the tiny claustrophobic space and tried to compose myself.  
"Ass!" I hit the sink with my arm doing nothing but gaining a large bruise. "Yea I bet she could arrange a private tour…show him all around the cockpit." With a frustrated sigh, I leaned my head back against the wall.  
The door jiggled.  
"Open the door Samantha."  
"Why bother_ Mr. Ashbury_? You seem to be doing so well without me."  
The door moved again.  
"Please open the door darling."  
"I think not _dear_."  
"Just allow me in for a moment…please."  
With a groan, I swung the door open and grabbed him by the lapels of the jacket pulling him in and slamming the door behind him.  
"What?" I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks.  
"You have no reason to be upset Samantha," His dark eyes were burning a hole into my skull. "You of all people should know I was only using that woman to get into the pilot area."  
"Yea well she obviously had other intentions."  
"Did she now?" The side of his mouth twitched up.  
I pushed a finger against his chest, "I'm sure you knew exactly what she wanted!"  
"Samantha…"  
"She sure knows how to work it doesn't she?"  
"Would you…"  
"NO! She was pretty enough right?"  
"Saman…."  
"I mean who wouldn't want a tasty young blonde to…."  
He shut me up with his lips, grabbing me tightly; forcing his way inside my mouth, it caused me to go rigid in his hold. I pulled away from his mouth, his breath was warm on my face, and his hands had a tight grip on my hips, his large brown eyes darkening.  
"You expect that to work Sherlock?" I snarled, "You just expect me too…."  
He came down again, still persistent, but with softness moving a hand up and into my hair. Hands fisted in his jacket I began to give in, of course, it would work, and he had known that from the beginning. We broke the kiss when the need to breathe came about.  
"Now will you allow me to speak darling?"  
Lips slightly parted I nodded.  
"I had no intentions of going on some sort of private endeavor with that woman." He uncurled my fingers from his jacket and brought them to his lips. "I waited a long time to come back to you, and I don't want to ruin it."  
I let my head fall onto his chest as he rubbed circles into my back. "Can we go sit back down dear? It's quite cramped in this space."  
We emerged to see the blonde stewardess leaning against the wall with thin lips and hard eyes.  
"I think she's mad at you," I laughed poking his back.  
"Yes well….ahem…after you dear," He coughed ushering me into my seat.  
He was quiet, a little too quiet for my liking. I actually began to miss his pestering. I reached up and adjusted the small vent above my head, then clicked the adjacent button.  
He jumped as the cold air hit his face, turning to me with shock behind his eyes. I smiled before blowing my own warm air through his hair. Patting his hand I returned the ear buds to my ears and enjoyed the rest of our flight.

**A/N Woohoo another semi lengthy one for ya! Believe it or not it took a painfully amount of time to get this done. I kept finding myself stuck, staring at a blinking cursor on the screen. Big love to RomanceDoneWrite, who helps to push me along! Now that you've read it, wont you please be kind and review it! It means a lot to me!**

**-Shelly**

**oh and FinalFanCrazy12p3 I really wish I had a way to reply to you :P **


	23. Maddening

**Maddening **

**(Samantha)**

A hand clamped down on my knee as the plane gave a sudden jolt, roughly pulling me from my sleep. The big man seated next to me had shut the window shade and was looking curiously in Sherlock's direction. Poor Sherlock was sitting straight up in his seat, with one white knuckled grip on the armrest and the other on my knee, Oreo crumbs tumbling down the front of his shirt.  
"Good god Samantha! What was that?" I noticed a small glint of fear behind his usually calm dark eyes and his breathing had sped up as well.  
"It's all right," I said soothingly, patting his hand to offer him some sort of comfort. "The plane is just landing." I brushed the crumbs from his chest.  
He began to relax, loosening his grip on me.  
"Right…well…it took me by surprise…that's all." Sherlock quickly slipped back into his cool and collective state, causing me to cast him an exaggerated eye roll.

Things flowed smoothly as soon as we touched down in Atlanta. We managed to get our bags quickly, my rent a car was all ready to go and Sherlock was even doing his best not to draw any attention to himself. He would stop every now and then; you could practically hear the gears in his head turning, when he would examine something new, thankfully he appeared to know that I was in somewhat of a hurry and kept his questions to himself.

It was almost nine when we pulled into the parking lot of the extremely neglected Cozy Up Inn. The yellow paint on the walls fell away allowing the original grey of the concrete show through. The wood of the main door was beginning to rot, small shards were branching out on the bottom, scraping along the pavement each time it was opened, and a few of rooms had boarded up windows decorated with varying acts of graffiti. Sherlock pushed the door to our room open, allowing the stale musty air to escape from inside. I hesitated momentarily, silently asking myself if this was a good idea. I closed my eyes and took a small step forward, the floor boards creaking beneath me. My hand lingered on the doorknob for a moment before I took the last few remaining steps inside. "_This is insane_," I thought to myself, slowly taking in the appearance of the room. The outdated sheets, a cracked glass lamp, the standard motel alarm clock, the tiny bathroom with green linoleum flooring across from the bed. "_That's why you're here, aren't you Samantha, maybe a part of you is insane after all._" I squeezed my eyes shut and pushed the thoughts from my meddling mind.  
"You should have chosen other accommodations Samantha." His voice was deep and concerning. Sherlock sat down on the edge of the bed and ran his hand through his hair letting out a sigh.  
"Why?" I whispered, sitting by his side.  
"You know why."  
"Do I?… Maybe I need to stay here," my voice cracked as I swallowed the lump in my throat, "maybe there are still answers here."  
Sherlock lifted his head from his hands and locked on to my sad eyes. "The only thing you'll find in this room Samantha is nightmares."  
"I thought you enjoyed pursuing a life full of macabre."  
"This is different Samantha," He sighed again pulling at his hair with both hands before getting up to pace around the room diligently.  
"How?"  
"Do you really thinking sleeping where your mother was murdered is going to help you?" He took hold of my shoulders "I wanted to do this to help you! Not drag you down into a pit of emotional despair!" I sat there on the dust ridden bed, slowly blinking my eyes up to look at him, Sherlock was searching my expressionless face for some sort of reaction.  
"This is pure madness," He uttered, letting his hands fall to his sides and going to stand in the doorway of my mother's ghostly confines.  
"Well…I was bound to go mad eventually," closing my eyes, I fell back onto the bed, causing the dust to rise and fall in a curtain around me. "Things can only be kept locked inside for so long."  
I felt the bed dip beside me and a gentle hand caress my cheek.  
"You are far from mad my dear Samantha."  
I pushed myself up onto my elbows, glad to see the warmth had returned into his eyes.  
"How do you know Sherlock?" My eyes were wide as I inched my face closer to his, one side of my mouth twitching slightly, "How do you know that the two years I was shacked up with the crazies that they didn't invade my brain?" I ran a hand through his hair, "How _do I know_ that I'm not losing my mind?" I whispered letting my hand fall to the bedspread.  
"To have made a life for yourself despite your past is proof in itself that you have a strong head on your shoulders. The wounds of your memories run deep Samantha, and despite it all you carry yourself well."  
I gazed at the bathtub that sat atop the linoleum floor, wondering if traces of her blood were embedded in the cracks that ran beneath the porcelain death trap.  
"I'm an emotional train wreck." I attempted to laugh, tangling a hand in my hair.  
"Your emotionality is most intriguing darling, I promise you that." He chuckled before lying back against the flat pillows that lined the top of the bed.

**(Holmes)**

I knew from the moment we arrived that this place was chosen for a reason. Surely Samantha wouldn't stay at such a place unless she saw it necessary. It was hard for her to step into the room; even with her eyes closed I could see the uneasiness within her. The way she breathed, the length of her touch upon the knob as if she didn't want to loose its grip, ever so slowly, step by step she walked in ready to face her demons. She cast long lingering looks at the bathtub across from the bed; I wished that I knew the thoughts going through her head. I started to wonder if she chose to stay here for my sake, knowing that I would want to spend a considerable amount of time in the room's heavy atmosphere. There was something buried behind her dull grey eyes, something dark, with out a doubt caused by being thrown so suddenly into an emotional hell.  
Mad?  
No she was not mad, being here in this room, sleeping in this room was a bit mad, but I did not think she was. Wildly conflicted yes, but not mad. But how on earth do you tell someone that they are not losing their mind? Better still who am I to tell her she's not? The blue slowly began to speckle through out her eyes, letting me know that my answer provided her with some sort of comfort.

She lay with her head on my chest, allowing me to take in the soft floral scent that her hair held with each rise and fall, her hands were idly playing with the buttons on my shirt. She would be asleep soon, it had been a long day for her, and exhaustion was only expected.  
"Tell me about your mother," I asked as she rested in my arms.  
"I already have," She yawned into me, her breath warm against my body.  
"As you remember her Samantha, not what happened to her."  
She sighed and stopped toying with my buttons for a moment, going still against me.  
"Her name was Lenore," She said after a brief moment.  
Lenore? Why did that name seem so familiar to me?  
"I don't remember much," she continued. "She liked to spend a lot of time with Stephen and I, she made sure we enjoyed the short childhood we had with her. We grew up on the beach, we went practically every day, even in the winter months, the three of us would chase after seagulls and pick up shells….Sometimes I think she knew she would be leaving us with gram early on…the way she would hold me, each hug she gave seemed longer than the last.  
I felt a dampness creep under the fabric of my shirt, followed by a light chuckle.  
"She used to read us stories before bed…about you," She patted my chest lightly. "I spent many nights wishing you existed." She yawned again, her breathing was starting to steady now.  
"And now that I'm here?" I asked quietly so not to disturb sleep from coming to her.  
"I don't want to let you go," She breathed, already succumbing to slumber's call.

I shifted her weight off of me and onto the bed, pulling the blankets over her still form, before I headed off to examine the tub. There was hardly a point in looking at it at all, with the amount of time that had past, but perhaps something did get left behind, the state of the building alone was enough to let anyone know it was hardly looked after. I climbed into the tub and lit my pipe, letting the sweet taste of tobacco soothe my mind. I let my arm fall between the tub and the wall idly moving it back and forth all the while puffing on my pipe. My fingers came upon a small indentation in the wall, a tear in the paper perhaps, or was it something more. I removed myself from the tub and moved it quietly away from the wall, there was no need to be waking Samantha with my ministrations.  
"Hmmm….most interesting," I muttered, removing the pipe from my mouth.  
It was not a tear in the paper after all. Down near the bottom of the wall, just above the molding was a burn mark, a curious burn mark at that, small enough to go unnoticed unless someone was looking for it…  
In the shape of a small bird.

**A/N BUM BUM BUM….what is this? Have we FINALLY made it to this point! Maybe it's because it's taken me forever to decide which was I was going to go with this. Is she crazy? Hell we all know he is, in his own ways. I see you all adding this little tale to your favorites…but are you enjoying, how can I know if you don't tell me. Your reviews are like Holmes' Oreos :P**  
**MUCH LOVE!**  
**-Shelly**


	24. Lost Lenore

**Lost Lenore**

**(Holmes)**

I knelt down and rubbed my fingers against the small burn mark in the wall. Someone obviously left this to be found, but why, was it her mother, did she know her time was running out. It could have been left by her father, but it didn't make sense to leave such a thing behind to only deny having taken part in anything. Then again perhaps it was nothing, just another part of the wasting away building that had existed long before Samantha's dear mother departed this earth. Pushing the tub further away from the wall I could see faint brown stains in-between the cracks of the floor. Good lord, they could not even manage to clean the blood away completely, surely it was set in by now, with no hope of ever coming out.

The burn mark kept creeping back into my mind. I returned the pipe to my mouth and slumped down on the floor, closing my eyes and drowning myself in my thoughts.

**(Samantha)**

_I was watching my eight year old self creep out of bed at the beach house. A four year old Stephen was holding on to the rails of the staircase, his little head peeking between the bars. _

"_Stephen what are you doing?" I sat down cross-legged beside him._

"_Shh Samantha, I'm trying to hear." He tugged on one of my braided pigtails and pointed downstairs. My parents were arguing, again, they spent most of their time bitching at each other._

"_They'll catch up to you soon or a later Lenore, it's not safe for the kids."_

"_Don't you think I know that Phillip! But what am I supposed to do?"_

"_Your mother could…"_

"_NO Phillip! I can't do that to them, I won't abandon them!"_

"_You may not have a choice! I can't do this anymore, I don't want to spend the rest of my life like this." Footsteps shuffled across the floor followed by a door being slammed shut._

"_Don't you walk away from me Phillip! We need to do something about this soon…Phillip!" Mom was banging on the door, shouting at my father trying to coax him into opening the door. I stood and pulled on Stephens small pajama clad arm._

"_Come on Stephen, we need to go to bed before we get in trouble."_

"_What's wrong Sam? Did I do something wrong? Why is daddy mad?" His blue eyes were glossy and frantic as I tugged him back into his bedroom._

"_No Stephen, you didn't do anything wrong." I climbed into his bed and patted the spot beside me, "Now come here, I'll tell you a story so you can fall asleep."_

_I was standing in the hotel room; my father wallowing in the corner with red eyes, my mother's blood was still making its way down the tub and seeping onto the floor._

"_You did this, you did this to her!" I cried out at my father, shoving him back against the wall._

"_Samantha calm down!" He attempted to place his hands on my shoulders; I was quick to shove them away._

"_Don't you touch me you son of a bitch! Why would she do this huh? She may not have had a happy marriage but she would never kill herself! You had something to do with this."_

"_Samantha I loved your mother…"_

"_LIAR!" I shouted pushing him against the wall again, "You never loved her, she was convenient, and now she's gone." I turned and walked away leaving my father to drown in his guilt._

"_Samantha," He called after me. "Come back here Samantha….Samantha…"_

I shot up off the musky pillow; my eyes winced as the sun streaked through the curtains. I attempted to catch my breath.

"Samantha…" Sherlock was standing by my side, a hand resting on my back. "I warned you of this Samantha," he said, rubbing calming circles into my back.

"No, it wasn't a nightmare," I squeezed my eyes shut and rubbed my temples "Memories, I think, I caught Stephen listening to them fighting. Then it was me fighting with my father after they found my mom."

I turned and gave him a reassuring smile.

"I'm alright Sherlock, just got a little worked up that's all." I noticed the small amount of redness that lined the whites of his eyes. "You haven't slept…"

"No, I haven't," Sherlock closed his eyes and sighed. "There is something I think you need to see Samantha." He led me into the bathroom, my eyes were immediately drawn to the stains on the floor, bending down I let my fingers ghost over the darkened marks that they had neglected to clean up. Sherlock laid a hand on my shoulder.

"She didn't deserve this, to be forever embedded on the floor of a dingy motel room," I whispered, looking up at Sherlock. I let out a large huff of air, "so, what did you want to show me?'

"There, above the molding," Sherlock said, nodding his head in the direction of where the tub once sat.

"What the hell…" I ran my hand over the small mark in the wall, "it's a burn, looks like it was done with some sort of branding rod," I ran a hand through my tangled hair, "but why would someone brand a wall with a raven." I closed my eyes and rubbed my scalp.

"Hmmm…wait, what!" Sherlock quickly knelt down beside me, "Samantha what did you just say?"

"Burn, branding rod…" I stopped fidgeting with my hair to look at him, his eyes eagerly waiting for my next response, "…raven?" The corner of his mouth twitched up.

"You recognized it as a raven?" Sherlock's lopsided grin grew wider and he arched an eyebrow.

"It's a black bird Sherlock, the first thing to enter my mind is naturally a raven."

"Hmmm," He stood and reached down to pull me up.

"What _hmmm_? You think otherwise?"

"It appears to be just an ordinary bird to me, the color caused by the burning itself, but the fact that you saw it as a specific bird is rather interesting."

"And why is that?" It was I that was arching an eyebrow now, mimicking his smirk.

"It doesn't remind you of your mother?"

"It's a common bird Sherlock, why would such a thing remind me of my mom." I went and sat in the chair that occupied the space in front of the dirty window.

Sherlock cleared his throat.

"Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels named Lenore…"

"Oh you have got to be kidding me." I rolled my eyes and stared out into the empty parking lot. Sherlock took a few steps towards me the look in his eyes brightening.

"Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named Lenore?…ahem," He cleared his throat loudly, placing his hands on each arm of the chair boxing me in.

I shook my head and sighed, "Quoth the raven, Nevermore," I recited dryly.

"Exactly," Sherlock grinned backing away from my chair. "I knew that name was familiar."

"Coincidence."

"I think not my dear, your mother was a target, and somebody wanted you to find that burn."

"Who? My father, because he murdered her remember!"

"Perhaps it wasn't your father after all, what if your father was a victim as well."

"You think he was set up?"

"Possibly," He sat on the corner of the bed and lit his pipe.

We sat in comfortable silence, him puffing away on his pipe staring into the bathroom, and I staring out the window, watching car after car go by.

"Samantha?"

"Hmmm?" I rolled my head against the back of the chair to look at him, his gaze still fixated on the bathroom.

"Do you know why your parents came here?"

"To Atlanta?"

"Mmmm"

"To see an old friend of my mothers, Claudia Bishop, she owns some sort of bookstore around here, at least that's what she told me when she called."

He head turned quickly with a puzzled expression on his face.

"Your mother called you?"

"Yes…that's how I knew she was here, she wanted me to come see her, said she couldn't make it down to Florida, but she really wanted to see me."

"We need to speak with this Claudia Bishop," he started to pull on his coat, "Somebody knew you were coming Samantha, and what better place to start looking for a Poe fan than in a bookshop." He removed my jacket off the coat hook and handed it to me.

"I thought we were going to hunt down Santiago Rivera, you know, the guy who wasn't too fond of my dad."

"I think this goes deeper than that my dear, no doubt he is involved, but maybe not the way you think he is."

Wolf's Head books was a small, but very well stocked used bookstore, the books that wouldn't fit on the shelves were separated into boxes lined along the floor. I closed my eyes and breathed in that sweet musty scent that can only be described as old book smell, the most wonderful smell on the planet in my opinion.

We slowly crept through the maze of boxes and shelves, making our way to the counter.

There was a small elder lady sitting in a wicker chair, her silver curls pinned to the top of her head, she peered over her wire rimmed glasses at me with green eyes.

"Hello dear, how can I…" She stopped, her eyes growing wide with excitement "Oh my…you can't possibly be," She emerged from the counter and circled around me. "Samantha? You must be, you look just like her!" She was looking at me with tears in her eyes.

"You must be Claudia Bishop, you were a friend of my mothers."

"So you are Samantha!" She pulled me down into her arms, "Oh Lenore would talk about you for days on end." The small woman cried into my shoulder.

"I'm going to have a look around darling," Sherlock whispered from beside me. I nodded as I patted Claudia gently on the back.

"What brings you all the way here dearie, the last time I spoke with your mother she said you were in Florida." She steered me in the direction of two wooden rocking chairs."

"That's why I'm here Claudia, why was she coming to see you?"

"She didn't say, it sounded like it was important, but she never told me." Claudia wiped a stray tear from her eye. "Then she was gone, made no sense to me, why would she call and make plans if she was just going to end her life like that."

"She was murdered," I said quietly, using my good foot to move the chair back and forth.

"But the police said…"

"They were wrong!" I let out a sigh "Now I just need to prove it."

"Samantha?" Sherlock had come back to the front of the store, "Can you come with me for a moment?"

I followed him to a small room located behind the many, many rows of literature.

"Look at this," Sherlock pulled out a thick Poe poetry book, and nodded at the shelf. I bent my head down to look between the books, and there it was clear as day, another burn, another raven.

"Still believe it to be coincidence my dear."

"Claudia!" I called, waiting for the small woman to wobble into the room.

"What's the matter Samantha?" She asked, looking at the book in Sherlock's hands.

"What do you know about this?" I pointed at the gap between the books

Claudia looked between the space. "I've never seen that before, but then again I probably never noticed, this is an old building dearie." Her eyes fell upon the book Sherlock was holding once more, "Now where did you find that book, that book should not be here."

"And why is that madam?" Sherlock asked her, holding the book out to her.

With a shaky breath she took the book for him and flipped open the front cover before passing it to me. "This book was your mothers…I sent it to her for her birthday…two weeks before she died."

I glanced at the greeting on the inside of the cover.

_From one radiant maiden to another on her birthday!_

_-Claudia_

"You haven't seen this book since then?" I asked her, closing the book and turning it over in my hands.

"No, not since I mailed it."

"Perhaps somebody brought it in without you noticing," Sherlock suggested.

"I doubt it, I don't get many customers these days, the only reason I'm still open is because of that nice Italian man who took interest in my little shop quite some time ago."

My look shot over to Sherlock, who had that 'told you so' look on his face.

"What's his name Claudia?" I asked her.

"Don't know, he just comes in every now and then, makes a cash donation, says he wants to make sure little business like mine survive."

"Hmmm…Right…Samantha dear we should be going." Sherlock placed a hand on my back and began to lead me out.

"Do you mind if I hold on to this?" I asked, waving the book at her.

"I'm sure she would want you to have it…come back and see me sometime, I really would like to get to know you." Claudia pulled me down again for another quick hug.

"I'll do my best."

"Hmmm….Italian business man comes to save the starving book shop," Sherlock still had that smug grin on his face as he got into the rental car.

"Riveria?"

"It would appear so," He replied, rolling down the window and pulling his pipe from his coat pocket.

**A/N I am going to apologize in advance…if I start to slip behind and make you wait longer than I would like for updates. I just got my hands on Kingdom Hearts Birth By Sleep, and have been waiting years for this thing to come out! So blame my PSP for any lateness in the near future… ANYWAY, let me know what you're thinking, it inspires me to keep going!**

**MUCH LOVE**

**-Shelly**


	25. Headache

**Headache**

"Something's not right," I mumbled in between bites of my Monte Cristo sandwich. We had pulled off at a Bennigan's for some well needed lunch. Well needed for me, he claimed not to be hungry, yet continued to nibble on my fries.

"Why do you say that?" Sherlock folded his hands on the table in front of him and leaned into it.

"It's too easy, Rivera wouldn't just put himself out there like that."

"Like I said madam, his involvement may not be what you think it is, I believe this goes deeper than this Rivera character, but I do believe he has answers and it is of most importance that we locate him quickly."

"Before he finds us," I said, swishing a corner of my sandwich into the raspberry preserves, enjoying the crisp sweetness in my mouth.

"I'm not so sure I understand," Sherlock furrowed his eyebrows and snatched up another french fry.

"Seriously?" I laughed under my breath, "You didn't notice? I think those Oreos have begun to rot that ingenious mind of yours."

"Well I would greatly appreciate it if you would share your suspicions with me."

"Alright," I took a deep breath and ran my hand through my hair, letting it rest on the back of my neck. "That burn in the motel room, it was set deep into the wood, probably caused by the ash that has slowly crumbled away over time." I pushed my plate to the side so I could lean over the table, "Now the mark in Claudia's shop was directly on the surface, fresh ash still lining the outer edges, smearing onto the wallpaper." A grin began to spread across Sherlock's face.

"It's a fresh burn Sherlock, he knows I'm here. Well somebody knows I'm here."

His grin grew wider.

"What? You think that's good news? Because it scares the shit out of me!" My eyes were wide as I stared at him in a moment of silence, waiting for him to say something, anything. He just sat across from me with that stupid smirk on his face. "And here I thought I was crazy,' I grumbled, turning my eyes to the oak table top.

Sherlock quickly reached out and grabbed my wrist, causing me to look up and meet those dark orbs with my bleak ones.

"There is nothing the matter with my mind darling, I was only curious about what you thought about the situation."

"And?"

"I believe that you are indeed correct my dear, now we must think, if the mark behind the tub is in fact significantly older than the one in the shop, which did appear to have been done very recently, it would lead me to believe someone has been watching you for quite some time."

"Why? I wouldn't have even come here if it you hadn't shown up, hell I try to avoid thinking about my parents all together."

"Someone seems to think otherwise." Sherlock released my wrist so I could continue with my lunch. I stifled a moan as I relished in the flavor explosion in my mouth. It was fabulous, I hadn't been to a Bennigan's in a very long time, I missed the chummy atmosphere of the once popular Irish restaurant chain, and sadly all the ones close to town had closed a few years back.

"All that fuss over a sandwich," Sherlock muttered raising an eyebrow, watching me lick the powdered sugar from my finger tips.

"Not just any sandwich Sherlock, _a deep fried sandwich_."

"Still, I don't see the point of…"

I silenced him with a nice sized chunk of my delightful Monte Cristo; I smiled, noticing a sparkle spreading throughout his eyes.

"My lord Samantha…this…this is…"

"Heavenly," I finished for him, "fantastically heavenly."

"Indeed," He grinned reaching for a quarter cut that sat on my plate.

"Glad I could get you to eat, now if only I could get you to sleep at normal hours," I laughed, pushing the plate in front of him; I could only ever eat half the damn thing anyway.

"One thing at a time madam," He grinned, finishing off the sandwich, managing to get most of the powdered sugar on his face. I leaned over the table gingerly wiping the sugar away that remained on his cheek.

"We should get going," I said quietly, he leaned into my lingering touch, allowing his chocolate eyes to slowly close.

"Yes, we should," Sherlock smiled gently before placing a soft kiss to the inside of my palm.

My father had stayed in Atlanta after he murdered my mother, Sherlock had his suspicious that he may have been set up, I still believe the otherwise. Dad had said he stayed because this was where mom grew up; he said it brought him a small amount of comfort knowing she had spent the happier portion of her life here.

Lies.

That is what I believed anyway, everything I remembered my father saying or doing always ended in lies.

His former home was located in a rural district just out side of downtown Atlanta. The house hadn't changed much over the years, a typical cottage style home, resting on top of a small hill overlooking the neighborhood. The flower bed still remained below the kitchen window, it brought chills to my spine, the house had a totally different feeling than the motel room had, I wasn't sure if it was fear or anger, probably both. I had been there moments after the shot was fired, the blood was still streaming from the hole in his head, forming a puddle around my feet, I couldn't move, shock had overcome my body as I stood and stared at my fathers lifeless body on the floor. I subconsciously tightened my grip on the steering wheel as I made my way up the drive way. I was glad Sherlock had fallen asleep on the way; I didn't want him to pick up on the insecurities I had returning to this wretched house. I took a deep breath and attempted to pull my self together before gently reaching over and patting Sherlock's leg. He flinched a little under my hand as his eyes popped open and a hand clamped down on my wrist.

"Seriously Sherlock, who else would be waking you in my rental car?"

He let go of my arm and sat up in his seat. "You can never be too careful my dear." Sherlock looked at the house that now sat in front of us.

"Don't let it get the best of you Samantha," he said, staring straight ahead. Apparently I hadn't done a very good job of composing my self.

"I'll be fine," I assured him. "Alright _Mr. Ashbury_ here's our story. This here is my childhood home; we are on our honeymoon and taking a trip down memory lane."

"Honeymoon?" He asked, narrowing his eyes at me.

"The owners are more likely to believe that I wish to share my child hood with my new husband than they would if I just brought you along for kicks."

"Right, after you _Mrs. Ashbury_," He smirked gesturing towards the car door.

"Just behave Sherlock, and follow my lead."

I let my hair down and mussed it up a bit before pressing the door bell; Sherlock was eyeing me with a curious look on his face.

"What?" I asked, "Can't hurt to look like we've been _enjoying ourselves_." I grinned.

"Mmmm," Sherlock turned his head back to the door, looking rather amused.

The woman who answered the door was young, maybe a few years older than me, the ring on her left hand still shined brightly, so either she cleaned it often, or was somewhat of a newlywed herself. This was going to go better than I thought. I turned on my customer pleasing charm and launching myself into my role.

"Hi there!" I smiled brightly, using my expressive eyes to my advantage. "I'm Cameron and this here is my," I paused letting a girly giggle escape from my lips. "Well this is my husband Thomas."

Sherlock quickly followed by grinning brightly and slipping his arm around me, squeezing gently.

"Is it like you remembered dear?" He asked pulling me closer.

The woman in the door smiled politely, "I'm sorry who are you?"

"Oh I am so sorry," I beamed, pulling away from Sherlock but making sure I kept hold of his hand. "I grew up here. We are on our honeymoon you see and well," I took a moment to look back at Sherlock and grin again. "I thought it would be nice to show my sweet Thomas where I spent my childhood."

"You should hear the things she has to say about this place," Sherlock pitched in.

Her polite smile turned to a genuine friendly one, "Well come in then, we haven't changed much, maybe it will bring back some nice memories for you." She opened the door further and ushered us inside.

_I highly doubt that lady_ I thought to myself as I stepped onto the plush cream colored carpet.

"I'm sorry to rush you, but I have to leave for work soon," The woman of the house said as she led us into the front room.

"Oh that's all right, we won't keep you." I smiled tugging on Sherlock's hand.

"Well feel free to look around then I guess," She smiled and left us alone.

"If it's another burn you're looking for dear I don't think you will find it inside the house," Sherlock whispered into my ear.

"I know, but I still want to see the living room," I started to move away, only to be stopped by a gentle hand on my upper arm; his eyes were full of concern.

"I'll be fine."

The walls were the same dull blue that I had remembered; the room began to spin slightly as I made my way closer to the center. I closed my eyes and swore I could smell the blood lingering in the room.

"_DON'T MOVE!" The sound of a gun cocking had me turning in the thick puddle around my feet. The cop in the door way had his weapon raised and pointed in my direction._

"_I…I…he was like this when I got here," I uttered, surprised by the cracking in my voice._

"_Hands up!" The cop yelled, taking a step towards me. I did as I was told, slowly moving my arms over my head._

"_Look I don't even have a gun, this man is my father, I only came here to talk to him."_

_The cop positioned himself behind me and pulled my hands down behind my back, the cold metal of the handcuffs cold against my wrists._

_"You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney during interrogation; if you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed to you." _

"_What? No, I didn't do anything."_

_I was in the interrogation room, waiting for what seemed an eternity for someone to show up and question me. Not that it mattered; they already made up their mind._

"_So you came in through the window, is that right Ms. Parker?" The questioning officer had hard eyes; I was in deep shit and there was noting I could do about it._

"_No, I came in through the front door; I wanted to talk to him about my mother."_

"_Whom you think was murdered by your father." He placed his hands on the table and leaned in inches from my face, I could smell the coffee and cigarettes on his breath. "We know all about you Ms. Parker and your countless attempts to try to convince our department that your mother's death was a murder and not a suicide. So what? You figure if we don't follow your silly ideas that you can take matters into your own hands?"_

"_NO! Look, if I did it where's the gun? Wouldn't my shoes be dirty from destroying the flower bed? Check the blood from the kitchen it won't match!"_

"_Of course it won't, it was the victims. So who helped you?"_

"_What?"_

"_Who got away, who did you pass the gun off to." _

"_I didn't do anything!"_

"_Sorry sweetheart, it all points to you," The cop smirked as he left me to sit alone in the cold room._

"Samantha!" Sherlock's worried tone was quiet beside me. _What the hell was that? _I was bent over on the floor; Sherlock was kneeling down beside me.

"Are you all right?" His eyes trying to get a read on me.

"Yes…no…I…I don't know," I whispered, trying to get up only to fall face first into the carpet.

"Come now Samantha, let me get you up." I felt Sherlock's hand slip under my arm just as something under the television stand caught my attention.

"Look," I pointed under the wooden legs. Sherlock got up and went to get a closer look as I managed to push myself back up onto my knees. "It's another one isn't it?" I asked between breaths.

"Yes…and it's rather fresh." Sherlock returned to my side and helped me to my feet.

"So much for not finding anything in the house," I mumbled.

"Mmmm."

"So is it just like you remembered?" The house owner emerged from a room towards the back of the house. I quickly pulled on my peppy smile. "Oh it was just lovely, thank you so much!" I extended a hand out to her and she shook it gently.

"You're welcome; I need to get going now, sorry to rush you out of here."

"Oh it's no problem," Sherlock took over for me, "we appreciate you allowing us into your home," He left an arm under mine to help steady me. "We should be leaving anyhow darling."

I collapsed onto the stiff bed moments after entering the motel room, my body felt weak, my mind was tired, I just wanted to shut everything out. The mattress dipped beside me and I felt myself being pulled into a pair of warm arms.

"It was his blood Sherlock, that they found in the kitchen, but how, I don't remember any wounds other than the obvious one."

"Shhh you need to rest Samantha, we'll discuss it later." Sherlock pressed a kiss on my shoulder. "I didn't expect the house to have such an effect on you."

"Neither did I."

I was still in his hold when I woke several hours later, I turned over to be met by his dark and warm eyes, I knew he hadn't slept, yet he had remained with me.

"You stayed."

"Mmmm, you would start to stir if I attempted to move, I figured if I stayed you would remain calm."

"Thank you," I whispered, burring my head into his side. I heard a single knock at the door, followed by retreating footsteps.

"Stay here," Sherlock got up and slowly approached the door. "Hmmm?" He bent down and picked up a sheet of paper off the floor. "It's for you," He said placing it on the edge of the bed. It had my initials on the outside of the folded paper, typed, not hand written, I used one finger to push it open.

_**Tomorrow, noon, at the Zero Milepost.**_

Looks like we have a date.

**A/N Things are getting deeper! I really hope you all are enjoying. Let me know :D**

**I discovered the perfect song for my dysfunctional duo, Basket case by Sara Bareillies, you should look it up, it's fabulous!**

**MUCH LOVE**

**-Shelly**


	26. Intrigue

**Intrigue**

**(Holmes)**

Samantha sat in the chair next to the window, turning the note in her hands over and over again. She had fallen quiet, every so often she would rub her temples, squeeze her eyes shut and chew on her bottom lip. Things had come to a stand still; she just sat there and stared into the dead of night.

"I'm assuming you know where this 'milepost' is?" I asked her attempting to break her sudden silence. Her knees were pulled up into her chest now, her head resting on top of them; the note remained in her hand.

She said nothing. Was she asleep? No, her breathing was deep, but not rhythmic She was good at hiding her thoughts when she wasn't looking at me, and it both infuriated and intrigued me at the same time. Samantha knew this, she was avoiding me intentionally, she did not want me to worry over her.

That much I knew.

"Samantha," I tried again, moving to sit in the chair across from her, "I can not help you if you shut me out!"

She lifted her head and finally met my gaze with hard eyes.

Yes, something was clearly upsetting her. She let her head fall back to her knees after a few moments, her grip tightening on the paper in her hand.

"I'll leave you be then," I got up and made my way towards the door.

"Don't you leave me here alone Sherlock!" Her tone was firm.

"So you're going to speak to me now?" I replied dryly.

She crumpled the note into a ball and threw it across the room, quickly standing up from her position in the chair.

"Somebody knows where we are, and you would just leave!" Samantha snapped as she approached me.

"If their intentions were to harm you they would have already attempted to do so madam."

We stood there glaring at each other, neither one of us speaking, just staring, searching, for some sort of clue to what the other was thinking.

Samantha turned her back to me and her shoulders fell.

"Do you think it's meant to be a warning or a trap?" She asked her voice slightly calmer than it was moments before.

"It doesn't matter," She said, answering her own question, "I'd still want to go."

"So you do know where this place is?"

"Yes, it's the second oldest landmark in Atlanta. It's inside the Georgia Building Authority Police Headquarters," She said quietly, sitting down on the corner of the dingy mattress.

"A police station?"

Why on earth would they want to meet her at a police station?

"Yes. So now my question is are they trying to help me, or send me back into the nut house?" She turned to look at me her grey eyes were no longer hard but confused and worried, she was genuinely scared.

"It has to be that cop, he had something against me, he wanted to put me up for good he…he…no, now I'm just being stupid, I did my time there, this is something else."

Samantha was rambling, rocking back on the bed with her eyes closed.

"And the blood, it couldn't have been his blood, he had no other injuries, did they lie to me, why would they lie to me, I know he had no other injuries," She groaned and stopped her rocking, pivoting her body on the bed to look at me.

"I know it wasn't his blood Sherlock, I was there, today when we were in the house, it took me back, there would have been more blood on the carpet, the only place it flowed from was his head. There was a lot of blood in the kitchen, a wound that big surely would have still been bleeding."

I had never seen her like this, her mind was bouncing all over the place and for the first time she was being vocal about it, I was glad that she was finally voicing her thoughts, finally letting me get a glimpse inside her intriguing mind.

"What else did you see Samantha?" I was afraid she would shut down again, but if I was going to be any help I needed to know. She went still for a moment, I expected her to turn away from me at any moment and keep her thoughts to herself.

"Not much," she began softly; her gaze fell to the covers on the bed. "Just his body laying there, the blood pooling around my feet, the cop that questioned me. He was sure I did it and that I had help."

That didn't help me any, I wanted to help her, but how could I? It wasn't as if I had a crime scene to look at, all I had were her memories and she had trouble revealing those to me.

"You would think that if someone wanted to meet with you they would pick a rather public place, not a police station," I said, my thoughts going back to the note that had been slipped under the door merely hours ago. She had her knees pulled up to her chest again, in her customary thinking position.

"Yea, that's what I thought; a damn police station isn't exactly a public meeting place." Samantha's voice was muffled under her arms and hair.

"Wait a minute," She lifted her head and began to crawl over the bed to where I was standing. "It's not at the police station, how come I didn't think of that, I should have known better." The excitement was building in her voice, a very faint amount of blue started to come back into her expressive eyes.

"There is another one of these mileposts?" I asked, curious about what had caused her sudden change of emotions.

"No, no, no…it was moved," She said, smiling brightly. "They moved it in 1842, it was originally located in five points, around Decatur St….there's a train station in five points, mom loved to travel by train, god, I should have seen that sooner!"

Samantha rambled on, "This person must have known my mother Sherlock, I just know it, they knew my mother and to some degree they know me."

"I guess we will find out tomorrow then," I smiled gently, finding myself drawn into her newfound talkative thought patterns.

"What if they know Sherlock? What if they have all the answers? I would finally know the truth!" Her excitement building still, she reached out and placed her hands on either side of my face.

"I'll be free, free from all the pain it caused, able to remember my mother for who she was, not as a painful part of my past."

I let my forehead rest against hers, "It's possible Samantha yes, but I wouldn't jump to conclusions just yet, there still could be something dark behind that note."

"But it could be the end, tomorrow it may all be over," The blue fell out of her eyes, replaced by a sudden sadness.

"And then you'll be gone again," She whispered, stray tears fell from the corner of her eyes.

"Yes," I said softly, brushing the tears from her delicate cheeks. "But as I already told you Samantha, I lack the ability to stay away from you."

I welcomed the sweet softness of her lips closing over mine, she fueled a fire in me unlike anything I had ever experienced, her feather light touches were enough to make my mind spin out of control. I returned her kiss, moving a hand up into the softness of her dark tresses, pulling her into me with the other. There was a faint taste of raspberry as she allowed me to sweep my tongue into her mouth, both of her hands entangled in my hair.

"I'll still miss you," Samantha whispered when our moment had ended.

"And I you, my dear Samantha." I gently kissed her forehead before pulling her in and holding her close. I did not look forward to the day I would have to see that look upon her face as I slipped away from her.

Samantha didn't sleep, lord knows she tried, yet all of her attempts ended in frustrated kicking at the sheets and deep sighs. I couldn't hide the amusement in my face from my seat at the window.

"I don't find it funny Sherlock!" She barked at me, sitting up and drawing her knees to her chest, "ugghh why can't I just go to bed?" She groaned burring her head in her arms.

"You will sleep eventually, when your body needs to."

We sat in silence as the night drew on, Samantha fidgeting amongst the covers and me in the ratty yellow chair next to the window. Sleep came to me eventually, and to Samantha, whose body had managed to make it to the bottom of the bed with one arm and leg hanging over the edge.

The light shot through the seam in the curtains and into my eyes, rousing me from my slumber. Samantha was still slung over the edge of the bed; carefully I rolled her over, attempting to make her more comfortable.

Her eyes shot open and she sat up abruptly her head making contact with mine.

"Well good morning then," I groaned rubbing at the pain on my forehead.

"What the hell were you doing? God that hurt!" Samantha rubbed at the spot between her eyes, just above her nose.

"I was only trying to make you comfortable Samantha, before the rest of your body managed to find its way off the bed."

"My god, what is your head made of? Stone?" She complained crawling over the night stand to retrieve her watch.

"I'd say the same about yours darling."

"Great, it's almost eleven, we need to get going soon," She turned to me with a crooked and guilty smile on her face. "You okay?"

"Yes, nothing like a good nutting to wake you up in the morning," I replied dryly.

"Sorry." She looked down at the floor, a nice shade of pink coming over her cheeks.

"It's quite alright dear, now go, get ready; we have a meeting to get to."

The street adjacent to the station was busy with people, making their way into the various restaurants and shops, it was indeed a rather public place, lots of people, much less likely to start any sort of scene. We made our way to a lamp post that stood in the center of the walkway. My eyes scanned the crowd watching for any sign of someone watching us.

"Maybe I was wrong, maybe for some reason it was the police station," Samantha said, leaning back against the lamp post.

"Patience Samantha, we've only just arrived." I circled around her watching, listening. Nothing looked out of the ordinary, everyone was going about their own business, and Samantha was beginning to get annoyed, tapping her hand against her thigh, exhaling sharply. A man wearing torn pants and a soiled hooded coat began to hobble in our direction.

"Remain calm Samantha," I whispered, moving to stand by her side.

"_I am calm_," She retorted, stuffing her hands in her jacket pockets. "The least they could do is show up on time."

The man was only feet from her now, most of his face hidden by his dark hood. He reached out a dirty hand to Samantha, wearing fingerless blue gloves.

"Care to help an old man out sweetheart?" His voice was low and rough, no doubt from many years of alcohol use, there was something in his eyes, something familiar.

"Sorry, I don't carry cash, and by the look of your walk, and the smell on your breath, you'd take the money and head straight to the liquor store," She answered him with a dull tone.

The man chuckled, color seeping into his grey eyes.

Just like Samantha's, but that was impossible unless…

"Samantha don't…" I began, only to be cut off.

"What? It's true, come on Sherlock look at him!" She gestured to the man, who had moved a few steps closer.

"Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrowFrom my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore -"

Samantha's head turned back to the man, her eyes wide and curious.

"For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore -Nameless here for evermore." The man spoke, his voice still remained low, but the roughness had begun to fade. Samantha cocked her head and narrowed her eyes, attempting to get a better look at the hooded stranger.

"Who are you?" She asked with a strict tone.

"Nobody sweetheart, just a ghost," The man whispered, taking another step forward.

This was not going to go over well.

"Samantha…please…don't overreact," I said eyeing the man who had a smirk in his eyes.

"Overreact to what?" She turned her attention back to the stranger, "It was you wasn't it, you put the note under the door.

He nodded once, taking yet another step, his eyes growing brighter.

"And you have answers?"

He nodded again, before slowly reaching up and grabbing the sides of the hood, and sliding it back over his head. The resemblance was uncanny.

"Hello Samantha," He grinned, flashing a dimple high on his cheek. Samantha stumbled back, falling against me, gripping my arms tightly.

"NO, NO, NO, NO, NO! YOU'RE DEAD! I SAW YOU! I STOOD IN YOUR DAMNED BLOOD!" She cried out, her hold on me growing stronger.

"You didn't see what you think you saw Samantha. I am truly sorry, you shouldn't have had to go through the things that you did." His voice was calm now, as he attempted to move closer to her.

"Don't you come near me!" She snapped, I positioned her behind me and rested my hands on her small shoulders.

"Samantha, as much as you don't want to," I paused to look over my shoulder at the man who watched her intently, "I really do think you should speak to him, he will have your answers after all."

"I can't Sherlock," tears began to form in her eyes, "I just can't."

"You have to keep an open mind darling, at least allow him to share his side of the story."

"Fine!" She straightened up and glared at the man behind me, "but I'm not going to play nice."

"I wouldn't expect you to." I turned back to face the man who raised an eyebrow with a smirk on his face.

"Well," He said, "are we going to talk or not?"

"Not here, as you can imagine she is quite upset. We will meet you back at the motel room." I turned on my heel and began to lead a very hot tempered Samantha back to the car.

Neither one of us had expected that the man who sent the note would have been her father.

**A/N Wow…an entire Holmes chapter, haven't done that since the first one, and this was significantly longer. So, did anyone see that coming, I sure hope not, otherwise I'm doing a crappy job :D Let me in on your thoughts, I do enjoy knowing what you think.**

**MUCH LOVE**

**-Shelly**


	27. Glass Cage Heart

**Glass Cage Heart**

**(Samantha)**

This was not happening, it just wasn't possible, I was there, I saw my father's lifeless body lying on the blood stained carpet, yet there he was. The man I had resented for nearly ten years was standing only a few feet in front of me.

"Well, are we going to talk or not?" The man who claimed to be my father asked Sherlock, but not taking his eyes off of me.

"Not here, as you can imagine she is quite upset. We will meet you back at the motel room," Sherlock answered him, trying to pull me towards the car. As much as I wanted to I just couldn't look away, I stood my ground as Sherlock placed his hand on my shoulder and attempted to turn me away.

"Come, Samantha," He said placing a hand on my back.

I remained still, not taking my eyes off of my father. It took all I had not to lay into him right then and there, release all the pent up rage and sorrow onto his body. My hands unconsciously clenched into fists by my sides.

"Now is not the time Samantha," Sherlock whispered.

Reluctantly, I turned around and stormed off down the brick lined street.

"I can't believe that rat bastard!" I bellowed, pounding at the steering wheel once we were in the car. "And you," I said pushing a finger into Sherlock's shoulder, "You knew didn't you! Before he took that hood down, you knew exactly who he was! Didn't you?"

"I had a feeling he was, yes, you two share the same eyes, both in color and emotion."

"And what? You just weren't going to tell me?"

"I tried to warn you, Samantha!" He barked out, pulling his pipe from his pocket, "You were too busy entertaining the idea of a begging drunk rather than focusing on his features."

"Yea, well, he convinced me."

"That was the point, dear," He snarled, rolling down the window, allowing the smoke to escape. He spent the remainder of the ride staring out the window, puffing away, avoiding looking in my direction. Not that I could blame him, I was being rather bitchy, hell, who wouldn't be after being thrown into my predicament.

Our silence continued on into the bleak motel room, waiting for our guest to arrive. I sat on the bed pulling my knees to my chest, failing miserably at an attempt to calm myself. Sherlock always had something to say; even when he was irritated he managed to make some sort of dry comment. The quietness was only fueling my rage monster, I knew something was going on in that mind of his and he sure picked one hell of a time to keep his thoughts to himself.

"You're only making it worse," I grumbled between my arms and thick mane of hair. I tilted my head so I could see him puffing on his pipe near the window. He looked my way briefly and sighed before turning his head back to the empty parking lot.

"So now you're going to play the quiet game? Trying to give me a taste of my own medicine, Sherlock?" I said, with a little more harshness in my voice than I intended.

"I thought it best to leave you be for a while," Sherlock mumbled, not turning from the window.

"You've never let me be before."

"Yes, well…things have changed, haven't they, Samantha, your father is very much alive, and you are very angry." He sighed, turning to me and removing the pipe from his mouth, "You don't need my…pestering to annoy you further."

"It's not you I'm annoyed with."

"I realize that, my dear…but your brain does not, I'd rather not argue with you when your mind is clearly elsewhere."

"Oh," I watched him for a moment, thinking about how snippy I had been with him lately. I could feel the guilt building up inside of me, unable to look away; he saw it too.

"It's all right, Samantha, I know your aggression is not meant to be put on me, the fact that I…"

Sherlock was cut off by a tapping at the door.

My body went still, my eyes staring at the door and my breathing heavy. Sherlock went to answer it; I stopped him just as his hand touched the rusty knob.

"Wait, I don't think I can do this," I said quietly getting off the bed and backing up until I reached the window. My eyes wide and full of both fear and outrage.

"You'll be fine; I'll remain between the two of you if it makes you more comfortable."

I nodded quickly and sat in the dull yellow chair, promptly bringing my knees up, wrapping my arms around them tightly. Sherlock slowly turned the knob and let the door drag along the carpet. There stood my father dressed in an ordinary pair of jeans, and a hooded sweatshirt that almost covered his eyes.

"Promise me you'll make her leave after this," He was speaking to Sherlock, but those haunting silver eyes were focusing on me.

"If you can provide her with what she needs to know, yes."

My father stepped inside the room, pulled down his hood and began to walk towards me.

"NO!" I was already beginning to flip out. "You stay there, don't you dare come near me."

Sherlock dragged the chair that sat across from me over to the other side of the bed before he took his place, standing at the bottom of the bed with his hands joined behind his back.

"Your fathers looks and your mothers temper, how lovely you turned out to be," My father scoffed.

"Where is she, by the way?"

"Who?"

"Mom, she must be alive after all, you seem to have had no problem coming back from the dead."

"I assure you, sweetheart, your dear mother is indeed gone." He almost looked sad, but he knew how to use those alluring eyes of his, I wouldn't be fooled.

"Don't you 'sweetheart' me! And how the holy fuck are you alive!" I berated him, shoving my feet to the floor and grabbing the arms of the chair to keep me from coming completely unglued.

"Shall I start from the beginning?" He asked running a hand over his dark head of hair.

"I'm going to ask, your going to answer. Now tell me, how are you still alive?"

My father sighed and rubbed his temples before he replied.

"There was a reason you and Stephen had such a sheltered childhood. Didn't you ever wonder why it was just us and your grandmother?"

"No, and you're avoiding the question," I said glaring at him through hard eyes.

"Fine…I had a brother, a twin brother, his name was Patrick and he was involved with some not so nice people."

"Like Santiago Rivera?"

"What do you know about Rivera?"

"Nuh uh, you answer my questions!" I began to get up again only to be stopped by Sherlock's hand on my shoulder. "Now tell me more about this Patrick."

"All right, the bullet was meant for me, I'll tell you that, but they hit him instead, I cut my leg trying to get out the window…I never thought you would be there Samantha." There was an honesty in his voice that I tried not to let affect me.

"How does this relate to mom? And, yes, start from the beginning this time."

"You better get comfortable," He said adjusting himself in the chair, "It's a long story, and not exactly a fairy tale."

"I got plenty of time," I snarled, leaning back and pulling my legs up once more.

"I was stationed in Atlanta as an undercover agent when I met your mother."

"You were a cop!" I was taken aback; everything about him was a lie, why should I be surprised.

"FBI, and don't interrupt or I may forget something."

"I'll do my best," I replied flatly.

"My brother Patrick was involved with a drug smuggling gang, after many years of tracking him down the Atlanta PD finally caught up to him…"

"And you were comfortable with them just locking up your brother?"

"We were close growing up, then we chose different paths. Hell, he even changed his last name to Myers, I still loved him, despite his choices, we offered him a spot in the witness protection program in exchange for information. In order for things to go smoothly I switched places with him to get on the inside while we got all we needed out of Patrick."

"Why couldn't you just find out this information for yourself or were you a lousy fed?" I smirked rocking back in my chair

"It was also assumed that people, women in particular, were being used as mules, they wanted me to weed them out, Patrick had admitted to have heard the rumor, but did not know the facts." He stopped for a moment and took a few deep breaths, running his hands through his hair. "That's how I met your mother, she was fresh out of money when she ran into Rivera, he told her he could help her get some fast cash and she would only have to work under him for a few months at the most. As you can imagine it didn't work out that way, she got in deep, knew too much and they wouldn't let her out. We became close fast," he looked to me with tears in his eyes.

"I loved her Samantha; you have to believe me about that."

Were his tears genuine, or was he just digging his hole deeper? I had to admit, those eyes could fool even me. Sherlock's suggestion that my father could have been a victim as well began to stir at the back of my mind; I tried my best to push it back down.

"I had managed to get a few girls out before Rivera caught on, so I did what I do best and disappeared, taking your mother with me," my father continued, "By the time Stephen was born they were beginning to catch up with us, we did a good job staying out of their reach for a while, but eventually it just got too dangerous with the two of you in tow so we left you with your grandmother."

"Wait a minute, what about your Fed buddies, they couldn't stick you in the witness protection program too? Why did you just run? You could have been placed in a home, with new names, and we could have been a family!" I couldn't stop my own tears from forming.

"We did talk about it, but she didn't want to loose contact with what little family she had left, I thought I was good enough to protect her," He placed his head in his hand's, his shoulders shuddering in soft cries.

I snapped allowing ten years of contained anger and hurt out all at once.

"THEN WHY DID YOU KILL HER IF YOU LOVED HER SO GOD DAMNED MUCH!" I got up from my chair and scrambled across the bed, dodging Sherlock's attempt to hold me back. I shoved him back in his chair, causing it to flip over; the back cracking under his body as it came crashing down.

"TELL ME WHY! WHY DID SHE HAVE TO DIE?" I was straddling him in the broken chair, slamming his body down by the collar of his sweatshirt. I felt Sherlock grab me by the middle and drag me away from his body.

"Let me go Sherlock! That bastard deserves more than what I could ever do to him!" I squirmed in his grip, causing him to only hold me tighter.

"Samantha, calm yourself," He grunted in my ear as he tried to contain my thrashing body.

"I didn't kill her Samantha!" My father shouted pushing himself out of the broken mess.

"I know she didn't kill herself, I know it was you, even if those stupid cops were dumb enough to ignore such obvious evidence." I continued to struggle against Sherlock's arms, "The hair, the glasses, the damn needle marks in her neck, hell I saw the damn bottle of tears through your pocket in the court room!"

"I'll tell you, but not until you settle down," he stepped closer to me those deceptive silver eyes burning into mine. I stopped fighting against Sherlock's body and his hold loosened, but he did not let go, he knew better than that.

"They knew we were coming back to Atlanta, I told her it wasn't such a good idea, but she argued it would only be for one night, and promised we would keep a low profile. They found out we were staying in this shit hole and sent Rivera in to do us in," He sat on the edge of the bed and began to break down again.

"I shouldn't have left her alone, I just went out to the car to get a few things, when I came back she was already gone. He inserted a sedative into her neck, and then slit her wrist while she was in the bath. I came in to see him standing over her body with a sick grin on his face. I went at him with everything I had, leaving him battered and leaving me with a few scratches, an eye infection and a pair of broken glasses that got kicked behind the tub in our scuffle."

I felt my own tears silently making their way down my cheeks. So it was true, she was murdered, but I had it all wrong, my father was innocent after all. So many years of hate I could have avoided if I had just known.

"Why did they let you live?" I whispered, resting my back against Sherlock's chest in defeat.

"They didn't," He said pulling a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and promptly lighting one up. "Rivera told them that he killed us both, this got around to the Bureau, who promptly made it well known that Patrick Myers was indeed dead. I got a house under my own name choosing to stay in Atlanta so I wouldn't let myself forget the mistakes I had made by bringing your dear mother here to begin with. I knew it was a bad idea, and that I was running on limited time, but I didn't care, I was lost with out her, and couldn't bring myself to leave. One of the runners under Rivera recognized me on the street and promptly ratted him out. At the same time Patrick had come across his obituary, broke protocol, and hunted me down, wanting to make sure I was alive. They sent someone in to kill me, and instead they got Patrick. One of the neighbors heard the commotion and came running into the house. I panicked and went through the already broken window."

"The blood was close enough that they figured it to be a match," I said quietly.

"Yes."

"And the neighbor mentioned you to the cops."

"Yes."

"And that's why they thought I had help."

"I'm so sorry Samantha; I didn't know you had found me." A gentle sadness overcame his features and he hung his head in shame.

"They put me in a psychiatric hospital. Did you know that?" I whispered, trying to avoid the cracking in my voice.

"It was the only way I could protect you at the time," my fathers head remained low as he brought a hand to his forehead.

"It was you? You suggested they put me there? Do you have any idea what that did to me? In case you haven't noticed my emotions aren't exactly stable!" I snapped at him, feeling hurt and betrayed all over again.

"They would have found you if I hadn't Samantha, so yes, I suggested to the Bureau that they whisper that little idea into you lawyers head, that way it kept me dead, and you out of danger," my father dared to come a little closer to me, Sherlock's grip tightened just a little and he adjusted himself so he could come between us if necessary. "I always knew you wouldn't let it go, and someday you'd come looking for answers."

"So you left the ravens behind," I said taking a step back, he may have wanted some sort of connection between us but I just wasn't ready for that yet.

"Yes, the one in the hotel I placed after they sent you away. I'm glad you had help," he said motioning to Sherlock, "Or it may have taken you a while to figure it out. But I know you would have, your mother read you that silly poem so many times when you were little."

"What about the book shop and the Italian man, is he Rivera? How did mom's book get there?"

He chuckled, "I left the FBI and became somewhat of an entrepreneur, I do well for myself, and I help keep the shop afloat. I send one of my associates in monthly with a check, but as for your mothers book I did that myself, It's easy to be left alone when the owner is distracted by a bald man with a checkbook."

"And the house?" I whispered.

"The Connelly's don't lock their door."

"But how did you know I'd be there, how did you know I'd see them."

There was a sparkle behind his eyes as a grin grew across his face.

"I told you I've been keeping up with you Samantha; you've just failed to notice. You have a strong mind; I just wish I would have been around to watch it grow." His grin turned into a sad smile as he turned and went to sit on the bed.

"You never answered me about Rivera?" I questioned him, he looked as if he hoped I had forgotten.

"He's dead, that's all you need to know," He replied flatly.

"There's more to it than that," Sherlock spoke up from beside me, "you're hiding something from her."

He took a deep breath and lit another cigarette.

"Rivera was nothing more than a pawn, doing dirty work for the higher up, they had him killed when they realized I, or Patrick, was still alive."

"I don't believe you're done, old boy. There's more isn't there?" Sherlock said, narrowing his dark eyes at my father.

He took a deep drag of his smoke before continuing, "Rivera told them you may be one to watch before they had him killed, he said you'd be the one to bring the whole thing down. They put a nice price on you head."

"WHAT!"

"That's why I pushed the hospital so hard. After your time there you had seemed to suppress any type of feelings you had on the subject and went about your life. They watched you for a few years afterwards, and when they no longer found you a threat, they left you alone. But not that you're here, you must promise me you'll leave tomorrow, If they catch wind of you being here it won't be easy to get away."

Here I was thinking I had made a normal life for myself, and all the while I had a ghostly father and some drug runners keeping their eyes on me. It was all too much for me to take in; my brain was pounding against my skull as if it were trying to break free.

"I think I'd like you to leave now," I whispered, shutting my eyes tightly and trying desperately to slow the beating of my heart.

"I'll be around, Samantha, you may not see me, but I'll always be there," My father stood from the bed and approached me slowly.

I couldn't find the strength to move away.

He gently brushed his fingers along the side of my cheek. "Don't tell Steven I'm still alive, I can't have him running around looking for me." He turned and walked toward the door. "I've always loved you Samantha, I love you both dearly, even if I never showed it." He smiled weakly before walking through the doorway and into the darkness of the night.

I went to sit on the bed when he was gone. I just sat and stared at the bath tub that held a story that I never could have imagined. The anger inside of me had subsided, now I was full of sadness and hurt. I still had a father, a father I could never have a relationship with. He had indeed loved my mother, and let his love for her get in the way of his instincts and in the end got her killed. Him, too, in a matter of speaking.

"Are you all right Samantha?" Sherlock's gentle tone coaxed me back from my thoughts. No, I was not all right, he knew that, but what else was he supposed to say, it wasn't like he had dealt with grieving emotional basket cases very often. I didn't have the mind power to talk to him right now, I didn't want to.

"I think I want to be left alone now, Sherlock," I whispered, keeping my eyes on the tub that lied beyond the bathroom door.

"Of course, darling." He brushed the hair from the side of my face and pressed a soft kiss to my temple. That was all I needed to realize I did not in fact want to be alone. As he started to walk away I reached out and grabbed hold of his hand. His warm brown eyes met mine and for a moment I thought I could see sadness behind them. He came back to the bed and sat down next to me, letting an arm drape across my back. I collapsed into his side, breaking down completely, crying into him. I let everything go as he held me and soothed away the pain inside of me.

**A/N Much love to my wonderful RomanceDoneWrite, who took the time the comb this beastly chapter for my bad grammer skills! I hope I didn't make things too awfully complicated, this is after all my time tackling a mystery and I know I've brought that up a million times. As always let me know what you think, it makes me smile!**

**-Shelly  
**


	28. Sweet Dreams

**Sweet Dreams**

"_What's that mommy?" My small nine year old self asked, crawling up onto my parent's bed in our beach side home. There was a small black box resting open in her lap._

"_Nothing you need to worry about Samantha," my mother promptly closed the lid and slid it under the wooden bed frame. She gave me that sweet motherly smile._

_Sweet yet sad._

_She had the bay window open, allowing the fresh sea breeze to sweep through the room. I watched the waves break and roll onto the shore, inviting me to play in their deep blue folds. Mom could always tell when I was aching to run down the ramp and dive right into the cool salty water._

"_Not today Samantha, the water is still too cold."_

"_But mom!" I complained, giving her a full on pout, causing her to chuckle softly._

"_It will be warm enough in a few weeks. Now come sit with me and I'll read you a story," she said patting the space on the bed next to her._

"_I'm too old for stories," I lied, continuing to sulk. _

"_Well if you say so then, maybe Stephen would like to hear more about the events surrounding Baker St," she replied nonchalantly, picking up the book from its place on the night stand and acting as if she were going to leave. My ears perked up at the mention of the famous address and I quickly scrambled to her side, sinking my head into her pillows._

"_That's what I thought," she smirked, cozying up next to me. "You'll never be too old to enjoy a good Holmes story. Now, where did we leave off?"_

"_Chapter 10, they were chasing down the Aurora," I said, crossing my small arms behind my head._

"_All right then let's see," she smiled and opened the book to the dull yellow dog-eared page._

"_She had slipped unseen through the yard entrance and passed behind two or three small craft, so that she had fairly got her speed up before we saw her. Now she was flying down the stream, near in to the shore, going at a tremendous rate. Jones looked gravely at her and shook his head_

'_She is very fast,' he said. 'I doubt we will catch her.'_

'_We must catch her!' cried Holmes, between his teeth. 'Heap it on, stokers! Make her do all she can! If we burn the boat down we must have them!'_

_We were fairly after her now…" My mother read on, as I wished I could be on a boat with Holmes and Watson instead of being cooped up inside, gazing at the sea below_

I awoke to the steady sound of the Georgia rain pelting the dusty windows. I stared at the ceiling, praying, hoping, that the roof above or run down room didn't have a leak_. _Rolling over onto my side, I saw Sherlock looking out at the gray cloud covered sky.

"Good morning Samantha," He said, keeping his eyes on the outside world.

"How long was I asleep?" I asked, sitting up and pushing the hair from my eyes.

"Approximately eleven hours."

"Eleven hours! You should have woke me up; we're supposed to go back today."

"You needed the rest Samantha, and I took the liberty of packing things up for you."

I glanced around the room and sure enough everything seemed to be put away, suitcases resting beside the door. Sherlock was still staring out the window, making no effort to look away for any reason.

"Are you feeling any better my dear?" He asked. His eyes fixated on the window panes.

"Yea," I said resting my head in my hands. "For the most part."

"I'm glad."

He certainly didn't look glad, sitting there in that dingy old chair staring out at the miserable storm clouds that hung in the sky.

"Sherlock," I said gently, trying to coax him out of his current state.

"Mmmm."

I got up and went to stand in front of him; at least now he was somewhat looking at me.

"What seems to be troubling you Mr. Holmes?" I asked with a small smirk.

"Hmmm?" He finally brought his eyes up to meet mine, forcing a smile onto his face. "Oh…just thinking that's all."

"About?"

"It doesn't matter," he replied looking away from me again.

Sighing I walked away from him and went to grab my watch from the night stand, fastening the black leather band around my wrist. I felt Sherlock's arms go around me from behind, his breath warm on my neck, the roughness of his stubble tickling my skin. Placing my arms over his, I leaned into his hold.

"Come back with me Samantha," He whispered into my ear.

"You know I can't do that Sherlock, even if I wanted to."

"Why, why can't you?"

"You know why, It would change…"

"Change what?" he cut me off. "Change who I am? You've already done that Samantha."I turned in his embrace, placing my hands behind his neck. His sad dark eyes looked into mine for a moment before sighing and looking away from me.

"You said that you would come back to me. Have you changed your mind?"

"No."

"Then I will stay here, continue to run my little shop with Stephen's help, and eagerly wait for your return."

"For how long?" He asked, turning his eyes back on me.

"As long as it takes."

"And if I am an old man by the time I make it back through?"

"I'll still be here, I promise."

Slowly he leaned down and pressed his warm lips to mine, tightening his grip around me, inching his way into my mouth. I let my hands get lost in his dark curls, pulling him further into me. Our kiss was sweet and gentle, but needy, both of us not wanting to let the other go.

"Samantha I," he murmured against my lips. I silenced him with another quick kiss.

"I'm going to get some fresh air," I said quietly, untangling myself from him.

"I don't think you should be going off on your own, your father made it quite clear that you still could be in danger," he said, grabbing my wrist as I moved toward away from him.

"I'm not going anywhere, I'm just going to step outside for a moment, and I'll be right outside the door."

The look in his face told me that he would rather me stay put.

"Look, I'll only be a few feet away and it will only be for a few moments," I pleaded with him, attempting to pull my wrist free.

"All right," he sighed. "Please keep your guard up Samantha." He reluctantly let me go, allowing me to open the door.

"I'll be back before you know it. Then we'll get going." I said slipping into the cool corridor outside.

The rain had slowed and was now coming down in a soft drizzle. I let my head rest against the damp concrete wall. I couldn't go back with him, deep down he knew that; and why did he seem to think he would be gone for a great length of time? A smile came to my face as I recalled the dream I had earlier.

"You were right mom," I whispered to myself. "I will never be too old to enjoy a Holmes story, especially now that I've found him."

I stood there and let the events of the past few days run through my head. I was slowly getting over the shock of what had really happened so long ago, and it did bring an amount of peace to know that I could focus on the better times that we had shared. I made my way down to the end of the walkway, sticking my hands out to feel the light rainfall, letting it wash over my fingertips. I was ready to go home now, ready to get back to my simple life of baking, and constantly burning myself. I spun around, letting my fingers drag against the wall as I walked back to our room.

I didn't have time to react as the damp rag covered my mouth.

"We've been waiting for you a long time honey," a voice roughly whispered into my ear.

And then everything went black.

**A/N I know, I know, it's short, but I promise it won't take as long for the next one to get up. Poor Samantha, I've been putting her through the ringer lately.**


	29. Hurt and Anguish

**Hurt and Anguish**

**(Samantha)**

Cold, so cold.

My body was lying on a cold slab of concrete, my jacket had been removed, leaving me just in a tank top and jeans The combination of the harsh Georgia air and the chilled stone floor rapidly lowering my body temperature My hands were bound behind my back and my feet tied at the ankles with more force than was necessary. My vision was starting to clear; I seemed to be in a cellar of some sort, a single wood framed chair sat in the opposite corner of the room, I could vaguely make out a single light bulb next to a chain switch on the ceiling, and a stair case leading to only god knows where. My head was pounding, my lips were numb and I wanted to kick my own ass for being so stupid. I just should have stayed put, but oh no, not me, not little old Samantha Parker, the girl who had a brain that seemed to enjoy shoving her in uncomfortable situations.

_I shouldn't have even come here_ I thought to myself, as I lay on the ground shivering, awaiting my fate.

The door at the top of the stairs slowly creaked open and the soft thud of footsteps began their decent down into my cold prison. The sudden beam of light had temporarily blinded me and caused the pain in my head to intensify. Whoever was coming was close now, their feet transferring from the creaking wooden steps to a dull rapping against the concrete. I could tell it was a man by his tall muscular figure in the darkness, making sure he stayed far enough away from me so I couldn't make out any features. The chair scraped against the ground as he took his seat on the other side of the room.

"Sorry 'bout the coat," the stranger's coarse voice trailed across the room. "Boss man figured there would be a better chance of you talkin' if you was…uncomfortable."

"What do you want with me?" I tried to push myself up with my legs, but they refused to cooperate.

"It'll be a while 'fore those work too," the man said, scooting the chair closer to me.

"Why am I here?"

"You tell me little lady, I don't know a damn thing jus' following orders, an' for the time bein' them orders are to keep an eye on you.."

I managed to roll myself up into a sitting position and leaned back against the dampness of the wall. Much longer down here and I was bound to get sick, actually that's probably the least of my worries.

I guess my father was right, have fun getting yourself out of this one Sam.

My eyes slipped closed and my thoughts drifted off to Sherlock, chances were slim that he would find me here, where ever here was. He was in a city he knew nothing about, his resources scarce and although he was a maniacal genius; I was afraid it wasn't going to be enough.

_Stupid Samantha, your so damn stupid, nobody will find you here_, my thoughts taunting me from inside my aching skull, drowning out the chattering of my teeth. The temperature was dropping even faster; I guessed night fall was not very far away.

"What's you name?" I asked my creepy companion, trying to weasel him into giving me some sort of information.

"Well now I 'aint the brightest crayon in the box, but even I 'aint dumb enough to tell ya my name," he replied with a slight snicker in his voice.

"I'll tell you mine." He seemed like a simple man, a simple man who had managed to fall into a bad career choice.

"Don' care to know what yours is, makes things easier that way." I heard the chair make another slide towards me.

_Easier for what, for when they decide they don't need you anymore, _my brain provoked, _go ahead Samantha, make his job harder, you know you want to._

"Samantha…my name is Samantha, but you can call me Sammy if you want."

He was silent as he cocked his head a little to the right; bringing his gloved hand under the bottom of the chair and moving it closer still.

"I'm still not gonna tell ya mine," he mumbled, moving his curious eyes off of me and to the floor, playing with his hands.

"That's fine, you don't have to if you don't want to," I said shivering, making sure he could see my discomfort.

"I aint gonna," he said shuffling his boots on the ground.

"Okay." I shivered again and attempted to rub my runny nose against the strap of my tank. My fidgeting had caused him to bring his attention back to me. Slowly he stood and made his way to a small aluminum cabinet; he reached in and took out a blue checkered table cloth.

"Close your eyes, you aint supposed to see me good," he said stopping short of the chair.

I did what I was told, shutting my eyelids and resting my chin on my chest. I felt the fuzzy side of the cloth against my bare shoulders, bringing a small amount of comfort. He brought the ends together in front of me and tucked them under my legs.

"Thank you," I whispered, waiting until I heard the familiar scrape of the chair against the concrete.

"Mmm," He grunted as he sat down. "You'll be no good to Mr. Frank if you're a popsicle." His eyes went big as soon as the words left his mouth.

"Mr. Frank? Is he your boss?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"NO! No, that's my name…m-m-my name is F-frank," He frantically answered, his breathing had increased and he was blinking rapidly. He was lying, knowing he had messed up, he was attempting to cover his ass.

"Well then, in that case, hello Frank," I replied amiably, with as much of a smile that I could muster up under the circumstances. He pursed his lips and furrowed his eyebrows before spinning around in the small wooden chair.

"You be quiet now, you aint doin' nuthin' but causin' problems," He murmured, folding his arms against the back of the chair and laying his head down upon them.

"You can't see me if you're turned around Frank," I said dryly.

"I'll hear ya if ya move." His answer was short, the simple man had known he had did a bad thing by letting the name Frank slip out from between his chapped lips. I smirked smugly in my small amount of satisfaction; at least now I had a name, granted it was only a first name, but a name none the less. I wiggled my back up higher against the clammy wall of my confines; resting my chin on the top of my chest I sat and waited for what was to come next.

(**Holmes)**

I was eager to get out of this city, not because I wanted to return to Baker Street, but because of the toll it had taken on Samantha's well being, as well as her fathers warning. There was no doubt in my mind that if her father knew of her coming here than others would know as well; and this worried me. I had hoped she would agree to come back with me; I wasn't sure if it was because I wanted to keep her safe, or only because I wanted to keep her near, perhaps both, I did not look forward to saying goodbye to my intriguing gray eyed temptress.

She said she would only be gone for a short amount of time, nearly half an hour had past and she had not yet returned. More than likely she had gotten lost in her own mind, watching the slowing rain fall. Not bothering to put on my coat, I stepped outside to bring her in before she became sick due to her wandering thoughts.

"Samantha my dear you're bound to cat…" My words caught in my throat. Something was wrong, very wrong, she was not outside the door as she said she would be, nor was she in the dimly lit corridor. She was nowhere to be seen. I tried to restrain the worrisome feeling that was building up deep inside of me and walked down towards the end of the walkway, telling myself she had just wandered off into the rain. Approximately midway down, I took notice to a scrap of green cloth lying next to the wall. I kneeled down, gingerly picking up the damp piece of fabric and bringing it to my nose. Mostly dirt and rain water, but something else lingered there, a sweet nutty odor.

Chloroform.

My Samantha had not wandered off at all, she was taken.

My mind was racing as I paced along the motel room floor smoking pipe after pipe. How was I to find her, I knew very little of this place, of this time, and they didn't leave much behind but a small fragment of cloth behind. I should have pleaded for her to stay, something deep down did not want her to go out there to begin with. I reached down into my pocket and rubbed the watch that sat there, this was far more than a three pipe problem, I was in…

…well I was emotionally involved, I wouldn't be able to live with myself if anything happened to her.

I would find her.

There was no questioning it.

I had absolutely no desire to fathom an existence without her.

**(Samantha)**

I watched as my companions head began to slip down and jerk up as he nodded off to sleep. I looked down to my boots and tried to wiggle my feet. To my surprise they moved, barley, but it was better than nothing, it was a waiting game, waiting for my legs to work enough to get out, waiting for someone else to come down the old creaky stairs, waiting for Sherlock. The last one seemed pointless; I had to try to do this on my own.

Quietly I slid down from my position on the wall to the damp and even colder cement floor. I may not be able to walk, but I could roll. Moving slowly so I wouldn't wake my watcher; I began to roll over towards the stair case. He lifted his head sharply and looked around the room, I stopped, my body as still as board, trying to steady my erratic breathing. After mumbling something to himself, he let his head fall back down onto his arms and fell back asleep. Breathing a sigh of relief I continued my frigid journey to the stairs.

_Now what Sam, _I thought to myself as I grabbed onto the first step, pulling my body up. _What do you think is on the other side of that door? _

"I really don't give a damn," I answered the nagging voice in my head._ Well you should Samantha; it may just lead to something worse. _I choose to ignore my thoughts and continued to drag my body up the stairwell, using my toes to give me an extra push, I was halfway up now. _You're going to die here Samantha, just like your mother, maybe they will put you in a burial plot beside her, if there is anything left to bury._

"No, I refuse to die here."

_That may not be up to you. _This was ridiculous, why was I arguing with myself, coming to Atlanta had really done a number on my brain.

I was almost there, I could see the beam of light shining through the bottom gap in the door, it took all I had to shuffle my way up, my hands finally resting on the top step. I heard footsteps, somebody mumbling on the other side of the door and a portion of the light went black with the appearance of a pair of shoes.

"You want something done right you gotta do it yourself kid." I heard a gruff voice say.

"So why bother to send Tommy down there boss?" A second voice said, young, most likely my age.

"Makes him feel important, and he's just babysitting, it's not like she can go anywhere." I watched with wide eyes as the brass knob began to turn.

"Oh Shit, you've done it now Sam," I said to my self, unable to find the will to move.

The door scraped along the wooden planks as it slowly opened, revealing an older man, bald, with a gray scruffy beard, and haunting amber eyes.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk," He clicked his tongue at me. "You should have just behaved Samantha." He placed one of his steel toed boots over my fingers and pressed down. My body came up about a foot and I hissed in pain. He removed the boot and rested it on my shoulder.

"A trouble maker, just like your mother," He snarled, before giving his foot a push, sending me tumbling down the stairs, my head taking quite a beating on the way.

"TOMMY! Wake your ass up!" He shouted, kicking the chair as I rolled onto my stomach and managed to get myself up onto my knees. Tommy stood from the chair, trying to regain his composure.

"I'm sorry boss, I only tuned my back for a minute, she was bein' nice and all, I didn't want to look at her no more, she made me say things…"

"Shut up and get upstairs," The older man said, pointing to the door. Tommy walked away with his head hung low, mumbling curses to himself.

"I see they didn't drug you enough," he said, hovering over me, "Between the drugs and the chlorophyll you should have been out hours, and immobile quite a while longer." He crouched down to my level.

"What do you want from me," I whispered, feeling the blood trickle down my forehead and around my eyes.

"Where's the box Samantha?"

**(Holmes)**

I spoke with the woman at the counter in the main section of the motel building. She informed me that other than Samantha and myself, only three other rooms were occupied, and she hadn't seen anyone that looked out of the ordinary. She wouldn't have noticed if they crept right under her nose. She was so caught up in her newspaper puzzle and her music box that anything could have slipped by her. Her pudgy fingers tapping her pencil on the desk in time with the music, she didn't even look up as she spoke with me. I took the piece of green fabric from my pocket and let it fall directly on top of her paper.

"What do you make of that?" I asked, when she finally looked up at me with annoyance in her face.

"It's a torn piece of shirt. Is it yours?"

Daft woman. Why would I have asked if it were mine? She reminded me of Lestrade, painfully oblivious to the obvious.

"No madam, it is not mine. I was simply wondering if it looked familiar in anyway."

"Nope, sorry." She picked up the cloth and placed it on the counter top above her, pushing it back to me. I was getting nowhere, this woman was of no help, and I doubted the other guests would be as well. I stuffed the scrap back into my pocket and began to walk out the door.

"You know, it's probably nothing but," The woman started to speak. I turned on my heels and went back to the counter.

"But what madam?"

"No, it really doesn't matter."

"I'll be the judge of that," I scoffed, narrowing my eyes at her.

"It's just that my cousin used to bartend at that restaurant down the way, his work shirt was that color, but it's probably just a coincidence." She shrugged her shoulders and went back to her puzzle.

"What restaurant?" I questioned.

"Huh?" She replied not bothering to look up.

"The name of the restaurant woman!" I barked out.

"Oh," she raised her eyes to meet mine briefly, "Bennigan's, you know that Irish themed place just up the road."

That was all I needed to hear, sharply turning around I left her to sit with her puzzle and her music box.

There was a hooded figure leaned up against the door frame as I approached our room, I slowed my steps, moving forward with caution.

"You were supposed to leave," he spoke with anger in his voice.

Samantha's father; of course, I should have realized he would have still been around.

"And I intended to, but your daughter has a magnificent way of getting herself into complicated situations." I stopped in front of him, those eyes holding an expression I had seen in Samantha, hurt and anguish; so much of her was visible inside of him.

"I'm going to get her back," I assured him.

"Yes you are… because I know where she is."

He knew, he knew and he just let them take her! Was he there? Did he watch her struggle as they dragged her away? I could not stop the fire that was building up inside of me.

"How! How do you know where she is?" I snarled, moving closer to him.

"That doesn't matter right now, what matters is that we get her back…and I'll warn you now, the shit's gonna hit the fan."

**A/N: I really wanted to keep going with this, but figured you all have been waiting long enough :p Now it's time for bed :D As always, let me know your thoughts, they make my world go round!**

**-Shelly**


	30. Fighting Back Tears

**Fighting Back Tears**

**(Samantha)**

"Where's the box Samantha?" he repeated. His breath reeked of cigarettes, bourbon and something else that made me want to vomit. The warm stream of blood continued to trail down my cool skin, pooling just below my eye. He glared at me with those sickening yellow eyes, waiting for his answer.

"What box?"

"Don't play coy with me princess, you know very well what box," he snarled, inching his face closer to mine, his stench invading my nostrils. "We know that's why you're here."

I managed to scoot backward, putting a small distance between us.

"I don't know what you're talking about, honestly!"

"And I think your _honestly_ lying." He pulled me up by my hair and dragged me over to the chair. Slicing free my wrists and rebinding them behind the back of the base with new rope. He did the same with my feet, tying one to the front legs. He roughly pushed the chair against the wall, scraping my knuckles against the cold concrete.

"Now tell me _WHERE IT IS_!"

"I DON'T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT A GOD DAMNED BOX!" I shouted, tugging against my restraints.

I felt the hot rush of blood flow into my mouth before I registered that he had struck me, my eyes were stinging, threatening tears. I refused to cry, not here, not in front of this scum.

"Maybe that will jolt your memory!" he growled, once again invading my space. I put my mouth full of blood to good use, emptying it all over his weathered face and the front of his white button down.

Smirking, he used the sleeve of his shirt to wipe the blood from his eyes and mouth.

"You know, your mother thought she could outsmart me, and look where it got her. I would have preferred to do this the easy way Samantha, we still can, just tell me where the box is and I'll let you go free."

"No you won't," I said quietly, coughing up the rest of the blood onto the cement floor. He backed away from me, that devious grin had reappeared on his face which was now outlined in my own blood.

"No," he paused "I won't." he walked away, clicking off the chain light as he left, leaving me in darkness.

My body was beginning to feel the aches and pains my captor had inflicted. Nothing was broken; at least I didn't think it was. My side was tender, most likely a few cracked ribs, my wrist was sore, my head was no longer bleeding, but I winced in pain each time a cool draft would blow across the open wound.

_You've really done it now Sam_ my brain chided, _you're fucked, with a capitol F._

"I know that."

_Just tell them what they want to hear, no use prolonging the inevitable, maybe he'll do it quick, like your sweet uncle Patrick._

"I don't know what he wants, I don't know of any box. I came here to find out about mom, not for some stupid box."

_Are you sure about that Samantha? Did you bury it along with the rest of your past? Perhaps you should dig up some graves._

"I think I'd remember if I was told about an important box."

_Would you? Or would you shut it out with the rest of that portion of your life that you'd rather not remember._

"Shut up!"

_You're the one arguing with a voice in your head, your own voice at that, maybe they shouldn't have let you out after all._

"SHUT UP!" I yelled, jerking against the chair, ramming my hands into the wall once again. My mind was right, I was right, I needed to dig deeper, something had to be there.

It just had to be.

**(Holmes)**

We traveled in silence; Samantha's father deep in his thoughts and I in my own. He knew where she was, but how? This still puzzled me, unlike Samantha he was good at hiding things in his features, but that didn't mean I couldn't find the answer in his car.

I glanced out the window just I time to see the green sign flash by.

"You've just passed the restaurant," I said, watching the small building get smaller and smaller behind us.

"Irrelevant," he said dryly, not taking his eyes off the roadway in front of him.

"What ever do you mean irrelevant? That woman told me that this fabric matches the-"

"Perhaps, but it's still irrelevant."

"I don't see how, it could help us get her back."

"I already told you I know where she is," he snapped, looking in my direction with blank eyes. "They followed you there, then posed as an employee to keep an eye on you."

"You know this for a fact?"

"Yes," he said, turning his eyes back to the road.

"Hmmm." I turned my attention back onto his personal belongings that were scattered about the small space. It turns out that Phillip Parker was a man with quite a few skeletons in his cupboard.

The tall buildings had begun to disappear, as did the quaint housing areas similar to her father's former home. We were now surrounded by trees and hills, someplace secluded, somewhere out of the way that wouldn't draw much attention. Nighttime had fallen upon us as we traveled through the winding roads; I hadn't seen another vehicle in quite some time. I had the feeling that we were close to our destination.

"She called you Sherlock," he said, breaking the silence between us. "As in Sherlock Holmes, or is that just some sort of pet name?"

"I assure you sir it is in fact my given name," I replied dryly.

"What ever you say Mr. Holmes," he murmured, clearly in disbelief.

"So, are you going to tell your daughter that you're a contract killer or shall I?"

The corners of my mouth turned up as a surprised expression emerged on his face; he was most certainly not expecting that.

"H-how did you?" he stammered.

"How indeed Mr. Parker," I grinned. "It is after all, what I do best."

"Go on, enlighten me."

"You told Samantha that you did well for yourself, your car is average, at best. I don't know much about your methods of transportation, but I know enough that you could afford to drive something with a higher price tag, yet you _choose_ to simply blend in. You keep a small grooming bag, the zipper is well worn, and the edges are pulling apart slightly, indicating that it is used often, or it is rather old, I'm guessing the first, which would leave me to believe you spend a great deal of time away from home. You know how to see, but not be seen, unless you need to be, I believe your former occupation has helped you develop that skill and you have almost reached perfection over the years. There is a faint odor of gun powder that lingers with your clothes, and as time has passed has transferred into the seats of your car. Oh, and it would also be wise if you kept your clientele information somewhere out of the open, the floor isn't exactly the best place, even if they are tucked away in a folder. Paper moves Mr. Parker, and one may see what lies inside, if only for a moment."

He was quiet for a moment; I sat back and watched his mind take everything in, his dull eyes switching between me and the road. He let out a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair.

"They wanted you to kill her did they not?" I asked him, it was the only logical answer for why he knew where they had taken her.

"Yes," he answered, his voice sad and soft, for once letting his guard down. "Turns out I was the only one he could get in a short amount of time. He told me I was to follow her, wait until she found some sort of box, pull the trigger, then bring the box to him. I refused, told him it was against my moral code to off women. He raised his price and when I refused again he had me, not so nicely, ushered out, right before he uttered about doing it himself."

"A box? What box? Samantha never told me anything about a box."

"Your guess is as good as mine."

**(Samantha)**

Box, box, box, think Samantha, why would you shut out a box.

There was nothing, the only thing my mind could think of was my impending death, there was no hope for me, I was living on bought time now and that time would be out soon. I was beginning to break down inside, I had finally found what I had been missing in life only to have it ripped up from underneath me. Cold silent tears were slowly creeping down my cheeks, stinging the scrapes that had formed there. Hannah, Kyle and Stephen, they managed to keep me sane over the years, they were my family and now our family was being destroyed. Then there was Sherlock, if it wasn't for him I wouldn't have even come here. No, I did not blame him for this, I needed to know what happened, his constant need to rummage through my brain was only a push into solving my darkened past. I couldn't get enough of his meddling mind, even if it tended to piss me off, I knew he meant well by it, it drew me in, it was why I loved him.

Wait…Did I? Did I love him? Of course I did, I had since I was a little girl. Now he was here and tangible, no longer just a fictional character in the books my mother read to me on her bed by the bay window; and I was about to loose him.

A light bulb in my head clicked on.

_Find what you were looking for Samantha?_ My thoughts asked.

"Oh my god," I whispered to myself in the darkness.

_It has been there all along Sam, you just didn't know where to look. How many times did you crawl on top of that bed? How many times did you watch her slide that small black box under the wooden frame?_

"Is that what he wants? I don't know where that is! Shit, I don't even know what's inside the damn thing."

_You'll figure it out, you always do._

The door creaked open, light flooding into the room. I recognized the figure in the door way as my captors, he was back to dig his answers out of me, answers I had decided not to give him. Whatever was in that box meant something to my mother, I may not have known where it was, but I sure as hell wasn't going to tell him that I remembered it existed.

"Are you ready to talk yet Samantha?" he asked, pulling the chain light on. My eyes squeezed shut and I blinked a few times allowing my vision to adjust.

"I already told you, I don't know what you're talking about," I said quietly.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk," he clicked his tongue at me, shaking his head. "You know where lying gets you don't you?"

"And where would I be if knew where it was?"

"Same place, you'd just get there faster," he grinned, leaning into me with his haunting amber eyes his rotten breath inches from my face.

"Hmmm…"

"So what is it princess, you have answers for me or what?" he leaned in closer still.

"Not for you," I whispered, making sure he could barely hear me.

"What's that now?" he asked, coming in further. I reared my head back and forcefully slammed it against his nose, hearing a satisfying crunch followed by a deep yell.

"YOU BITCH! YOU BROKE MY FUCKING NOSE!"

"Yes well, that was the point. Tit for tat asshole."

I wasn't going to play nice anymore, I was as good as dead anyway, might as well go out with a bang.

His hand made contact with my face the same as it did before, sending a fresh batch of blood into my mouth. Spitting the blood out in a puddle beside me, I looked up at him grinning. One hand was over his nose attempting to stop his own blood, the other hanging by his side.

"Didn't your mother ever tell you not to hit girls Frank?" His eyes widened at the use of the name.

"I liked you better when you were quiet," he mumbled through his hand.

He kicked the chair over, sending me to the floor, and causing fragile wood to break. Good for me, bad for him. I was quick to scramble up onto my legs and make a run for the door.

"I don't think so honey!" He used his free hand to grab my bound wrists and pull me back against him. I smashed my head into his nose again, his reflexes betraying him and allowing me to wiggle free.

"FUCK!" He doubled over clutching his head in both of his hands. By the time he looked up I was already half way up the stairs. I heard the unmistakable sound of a gun cock, followed shortly by an ear-ringing shot. A white hot pain ripped through my shoulder and warm blood began to pour out of my arm as I cried out in pain. I looked down; he had just grazed the top of my shoulder, leaving behind a nasty gash.

I had to move faster.

I reached the door and spun around to fiddle with the knob with my bound wrists.

"TOMMY! GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE!" he yelled. I could hear him trying to reload his gun, apparently he had only intended on using one bullet on me, and I highly doubt that it was meant for my arm.

**(Holmes)**

Phillip turned off the lights and pulled into a long winding driveway. It was a large house, three stories tall and looked as if it came straight out of some sort of Poe story. It oozed a dark eeriness that was almost palpable. He reached down under the seat and pulled out a hand gun.

"Here," he said, placing the gun in my hands. "Pull this back, and pull the trigger, make sure this little guy here is out, that's the safety, won't do you any good if it's pushed in."

"And if I run out of bullets?" I asked, looking for the loading chamber.

"This here will release the magazine," he said pressing another button down. A small black rectangle fell into my lap. "I'll give you some preloaded ones, just pop another one in and you're good to go. Oh and here." He took the gun from me and screwed a long tube to the end.

"What is the purpose of that?"

"Silencer, a nice quiet ppht, as opposed to a big bang," he said, handing it back over to me.

"Fascinating, I knew it was possible, and to think Watson didn't believe me."

"Yes well I'll give you a history lesson later, let's get my kid back first all right?"

"Right, and what will you be using then?" I asked him.

"Yoko," he replied opening the car door and going to the rear compartment.

"And what would that be exactly?"

He smirked and pulled a rather large gun from a hard black case, screwing his own _silencer_ onto the tip.

"This…is Yoko," he said patting the area above the trigger. "Destroys what ever comes her way."

"What a strange name for a weapon," I said cocking my head sideways.

"It's a nick name, not the actual name," he chuckled. "Now let's go, we don't have much time.

**(Samantha)**

I managed to get the door open, just in time to see Tommy come around a corner and head in my direction. His face was red with rage as he approached and pulled me into a large room, slamming the door shut behind me.

"This is no good, not good at all," he groaned shaking his head, dragging me down a hallway. It was a house. A big house, a nice house, decorated with the finest furniture money could buy. Frank sure had done well for himself smuggling drugs for a living.

"Where are you taking me?" I asked, struggling against his strong arms.

"He tol' me he wasn't gonna hurt ya, he promised me. You aint supposed to hurt girls, it just aint right. I'll put ya somewhere safe, he shouldn't have hurt you."

"Why are you helping me? He'll hurt you too if he finds out."

"Mr. Frank is a bad man, I know this, but I had nowhere else to go, he said he'd take care of me if I worked for him, don' like much of what he does, but it's all I got."

We came to the end of the hall and past the kitchen.

"TOMMY! WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU TOMMY!" Frank's cries echoed throughout the house.

"You can't just hide me Tommy; you need to get me out of this house!" I pleaded with him.

"But I don' know how to drive Miss Sammy."

"I do, get me out, I can help you too, but you have to get me out of here." He stopped pulling me, glancing between the cries of Frank storming through the house and me.

"How, how can you help me?" He asked.

"We'll get you into a special program, a special program to help people that have been it your situation."

"They will help me?"

"Yes, but we have to _go now!_"

He nodded once, and began to drag me further into the house. I could see the door, not ever had I ever felt such relief to see something as plain as a large white door, a door that could lead me to my freedom. The door flew open before we could reach it, a hooded man with a large gun now stood in the way between Tommy and my sweet escape. So close, I was so damn close.

"Let her go!"

Wait, I knew that voice, how the hell was that possible.

"Dad?"

"Hello sweetheart," he nodded. "Now let her go asshole!"

Tommy's grip on me tightened out of fear.

"It's alright, he was trying to get me out, put your gun down, he won't hurt me," I pleaded with my father, trying to get Tommy to loosen his grip. He looked at Tommy with hard eyes before finally lowering his gun. Someone had ran up the walkway behind him, coming to a halt in the door way.

"Took you long enough," my father mumbled.

"Yes well, I wasn't expecting a small ambush," came a low accented tone.

"Tommy let go!" I pulled out of his grip and pushed my father to the side. "Sherlock!" His face snapped up and I was met with sad deep brown eyes.

"My god Samantha, what has he done to you?"

"I'm sure it looks worse than it is."

"I doubt that darling.""Shh!" My father had his gun raised and motioned Tommy to get out of the way. The sounds of soft footsteps were coming down the hall. Sherlock was quick to move me behind a pillar in the entryway.

"Tommy-," Frank's voice called softly. "I know you're helping her Tommy, It's a shame, I rather liked you, but now you both have to die." He cocked his gun. "C'mon out Tommy, you can't hide forever."

He emerged from the hall to be met by my father; Tommy had cowered down into the far corner of the room, retreating from both Frank, and the barrel of my father's gun.

"Well look who it is, the killer with a conscious. Did you change your mind?" Frank smirked. "I'd lower that gun buddy, I'm the one who offered to pay you remember."

"Tables have turned, I'm gonna off you for free," my father answered.

"Really now? And why is that?"

"You've hurt my family for the last time." I heard my father pull the trigger, but there was no shot fired, just a dull click.

Shit, it was empty. "Sherlock!" I whispered.

"Quiet Samantha!"

"I'm not going to watch my father die…again." I went to move from behind the marble pillar,

"Wait!" Sherlock gripped my good shoulder attempting to keep me in my place.

"No! I've been waiting long enough!"

"Samantha please, I just got you back, I can't bear to loose you, please, just wait."

"Well isn't that a shame, fresh out of ammo, how unfortunate," Frank's voice echoed off the walls. I turned my head and slowly turned my head to see him approach my father, gun raised.

"So who are you anyway," Frank asked.

"Just a ghost," my father whispered. Frank raised his gun and pushed my father's hood down.

"Oh you've got to be kidding me!" Frank took a step back. "You look good for a dead man Patrick. You were my favorite you know, before you ran off with my best mule. Let's see you come back from this," Frank raised the gun and prepared to fire.

"NO!" I pushed Sherlock back and moved into the open. "I know where it is, the box, I know where it is!"

"Oh there you are, how fabulous, a little family reunion before you both die." Frank snarled.

"But what about the box Frank? You kill me; you'll never know where it is!" I took a few steps closer to them.

"True, then again, it's been ten years, nobody else knows it exists, and if you're dead, they won't be able to find it."

"They just might," I pleaded, taking a few more steps.

"I'm willing to take that chance," Frank said with a twisted grin on his face, before turning the gun from my father to me and pulling the trigger.

It happened so fast, I heard my father shout "NO!" at the same time Sherlock cried out my name. I hit the ground hard, not from a bullet, from the weight of my fathers now limp body lying on top of me. There were more gunshots, and I saw Frank's body hit the floor as I felt my father's warm blood soak into my clothing.

"Dad," I managed to roll him onto his back, his eyes were open and he was breathing rapidly.

"I'm so sorry Sammy; I never wanted it to end like this."

"Shhh, you'll be all right, everything is going to be fine." I looked down to see the blood pouring out of his middle, unable to stop the tears from flowing steadily.

"Hey now, don't cry sweetheart, you hate me remember?" His hand found mine and he squeezed gently.

"I don't hate you dad, I need you, you have to hold on."

"You've never needed me Samantha; you're so strong, just like your mother." He squeezed my hand again, bringing his bloodied hand up to brush the hair from my face. "I love you Sam, you remember that."

"No," I choked out. "Please, please hold on, we'll…we'll get you to a hospital."

"It's all right; I can be with your mother now."

"Take care of Stephen, and keep hold of that guy of yours, I like him."

"I love you dad, I'm sorry, I'm sorry I never knew, sorry I found out to late."

"It's never to late Samantha," he said, his voice barley above a whisper. He squeezed my hand once more before it went limp.

"Samantha," Sherlock said quietly kneeling down beside me. "I'm so sorry Samantha." I laid his hand on my back and I fell into him. Wrapping his arms around me he sat on the floor doing what he could to soothe what had been broken inside me once more, a mixture of tears and blood pouring into his chest. There were sirens in the distance; they would be here soon to take what was left of my past off to be buried for good, everything but the small black box that my mother had left behind for me.

**A/N *Whew* what a doozy of a chapter huh? I even made myself cry, way to go me! Much thanks to FinalAnimalMoonE, for recommending a few flicks to bring me out of my depressed slump after over half of this chapter got deleted and I had to start from scratch XP The Phantom of the Opera Soundtrack proves to put me in a depressing writing mood, "Wishing you were somehow here again" brought a lot into this chapter. Until next time I remain your sweet little sleep deprived author. Oh and by the way, for those of you who got the Yoko thing, I have no qualms against her, sure she probably caused the greatest band in history to split up, but she did love him, and most of them went onto have good solo careers anyway. XD  
**

**-Shelly**


	31. Aftermath

**Aftermath**

**  
**

Sherlock held me to his chest, rubbing my back, his face pressed against my hair, doing what he could to comfort me. I breathed in the strangely soothing light tobacco smell that lingered in his shirt; it was a sweet smoky smell, so much different that the harsh stench of cigarettes that poured out of Frank's mouth. It was his sweet scent that had kept me from completely going over the edge when he had left, and now it was the only thing keeping me calm.

We sat in silence; there was no need for words, not now. I knew he wanted nothing more than to jump right in and start asking me questions about the box, it was in his nature to be curious, but he said nothing, time had taught him to try to be patient when it came to my emotional state. Perhaps I had caused some sort of change inside the great Sherlock Holmes. A man who was thought to be incapable of letting someone in, of caring for someone more than himself, even allowing his emotions get the best of him. Maybe he needed me as much as I needed him.

Hoards of cop cars and ambulances now surrounded the house. I buried my head a little further into Sherlock's chest as they loaded my father's body onto a stretcher after snapping some crime scene photos. I didn't even hear the paramedic that was now crouched down beside us, attempting to coax me from the comfort of Sherlock's warmth.

"Samantha," Sherlock said quietly. "You should let them look you over, that wound on your arm looks as if it needs attention."

"I'm fine, the bullet missed, I was grazed that's all," I said, sitting up a little, but not moving too far.

"Bullet?" he asked, shock and anger emerging in his tone. "He shot you?"

"No, he _tried_ to shoot me, twice in case you forgot," I retorted. "Obviously he missed." I swore I saw Sherlock roll his eyes at my remark.

"Please let them look darling, for my sake."

"All right," I said, giving him a weak smile.

"You're going to need to come with me miss," the young sandy haired paramedic said, gently helping me to my feet. He led me to the back of one of the ambulances and began to prod at my injuries. I hissed in pain when he lifted my shirt and examined the bruised state of my midsection.

"Well, that looks like its x-ray worthy," he said as he wrapped me up. "And that gash will be in need of some stitches," he continued on placing a gauze pad over my wound.

"And let me guess, that involves me going to the hospital."

"Technically that's up to you, I highly suggest it. We can take you now, or someone can take you later."

"I'll go; there is no one to take me later."

"But I thought you were with-"

"He doesn't drive," I said quickly "He can ride with me right?"

He didn't have time to answer; there was a parade of curses and yelling coming from the inside of the house. Sherlock's could be heard over most of them. I hopped down, grunting from the force the soft landing put on my ribs.

"I recommend you stay here miss," he said, trying to stop me.

"If I stay they will haul him off to jail."

I hurried inside the house to see Sherlock with my father's gun in his hand, dust falling around him. I glanced up to see a nice sized hole in the roof.

"Samantha! Look at this," he quickly came to stand in front of me. "I knew it, I knew there was no way his gun was empty, it was jammed somehow, it fired straight away when I picked it up."

"Put the gun down sir!" One of the police officers had his hand on his holster, waiting for an excuse to bring his own gun out.

He tuned to the cop, glaring at him with hard eyes. "I was simply explaining how-"

"You were tampering with evidence, now put it down." He undid the snap on that held his weapon in place.

"Wait!" I exclaimed, coming between the two of them. I turned to Sherlock, "do as he says."

"I knew it Samantha; I knew he wouldn't allow himself to run out of ammunition. I only wanted to examine the weapon for myself; I didn't expect it to go off."

"I know, but please, just give it to him."

Sherlock looked at me momentarily, before nodding and handing the gun over.

"I was only-"

"I know," I interrupted, running my hand down the length of his coat arm.

"Are you all right then?" he asked, lightly grazing the area below the gash on my shoulder with his thumb.

"I'll need stitches and he recommended some x-rays. A few hours in the hospital and I'll be good to go."

"Miss Sammy?" Tommy had wandered up to us, standing with his hands behind his back, rocking on his heels. "You was right Miss Sammy, they gonna help me, said they gonna' put me in a safe place, aint' gotta do anymore bad things."

"That's great Tommy," I grinned. "I told you they could help you."

Tommy sheepishly looked down at his feet. "I'm sorry I wasn't that nice to you and all, I was jus' doin what I was told, didn't wanna get in trouble with Mr. Frank."

"It's all right," I said sticking my hand out to him. "What do ya say, friends?"

He studied my hand, cocking his head to the side. "You really wanna be my friend, after I did such bad things."

"You're not a bad person Tommy; you just fell into some bad times, that's all." I said, smiling warmly.

Tommy grabbed my hand and pulled me in tightly into his arms, causing me to wince and yelp in pain. Quickly he released me, looking at me through wide eyes.

"Oh! I'm sorry Miss Sammy, I didn't hurt ya did I?"

I saw Sherlock trying his best to stifle a smirk from the corner of my eye.

"I'll live," I replied, taking a deep breath and rubbing the tender area through my shirt.

"Well, I best be off, they said they wanna talk to me some."

I nodded "Stay safe Tommy."

"You too Miss Sammy." And with that he was gone, off to start his new life, one a poor guy like him should have had to begin with.

"Are you ready to go Miss?" The young paramedic had hunted me down in the mass of cops and a camera crew, boy did that news travel fast, I sure as hell did not want to get wrapped up in that mess.

"As ready as I'll ever be," I said falling in line behind him, but staying far enough to talk quietly with Sherlock. "There is going to be a considerable amount of things that will pertain to your interests at the hospital, please, please, keep your questions quiet, they won't be very nice if you start berating them. I'll answer what I can once they leave us alone."

"Hmm, I can only imagine the advances they have made in the medical field," Sherlock said, offering his hand to help me up into the back of the ambulance.

"You have no idea," I smirked, squeezing his hand before situating myself onto the bench seat.

Since we were brought in by the emergency vehicle I was fast tracked into a room quickly, now we would play the famous ER waiting game. Endless hours of waiting for answers I already knew, just to be bandaged up and sent right back out.

"Are you in much pain Samantha?" Sherlock asked, placing a hand over the ripped knee of my jeans. I lied in the hospital bed staring at the overhead examination light.

"It's building," I said, squeezing my eyes shut. "The adrenaline is fading, so yes it hurts, but it's nothing I haven't dealt with before."

He went quiet, the questions I had expected still hadn't come, he just sat there beside my bed softly rubbing circles onto my exposed knee. He stopped suddenly, I heard him sigh and the ruffle of his clothes suggesting he had gotten up from his chair.

"Sherlock?" He didn't answer.

"Sherlock?" Still nothing, just the hum of the heater and random chatter from the other side of the door. I opened my eyes and pushed myself up into a sitting position. He was standing with his back to me, on the far side of the room.

"It's nothing, really, just a few bumps and bruises," I said, trying to gain his attention.

He remained still.

I got up from the bed, walked over to him and placed my hand on his upper arm, turning him to face me.

"Sherlock I-"

There were no words to describe the look in his eyes, the sorrow that was etched onto his usually appealing face. His deep brown eyes full of sorrow and guilt, with a thin glossy lair over them.

"I thought I had lost you Samantha," he whispered, looking away from me. "You have no idea how scared I was, I've never-"

"I'm fine," I cut him off. "I'm right here and it's all over now. You and dad made sure of that."

"You don't understand Samantha!" he turned back to me slamming his hand down on the counter top. "I have never felt so out of place, I wouldn't have been able to live with myself if something worse had happened to you. It was all your father you know, he knew where you were, without him I'm afraid it would have taken me quite some time to locate you, but he brought me to you, and now he is dead and you…I can't even find words to say what went through my mind when he turned that gun on you." Sherlock folded me into his arms and placed a kiss to my temple before burring his face into my hair. "I can't loose you Samantha, I think-I think I would fall apart without you."

A few stray tears slid from my eyes; never in my life did I ever expect him to open up like that, for him to openly talk about raw feelings. Hint at them maybe, but for him to be so adamantly sincere brought a warm comfort that filled me up inside.

"You'll never loose me Sherlock," I said, pulling back slightly, looking into those deep mahogany eyes. "I've been waiting for you since I was just a small girl after all." I smiled warmly.

He leaned down and closed his lips over mine, resting his hands on my hips, careful not to put any pressure on my middle.

"Ms. Parker?" An older man with wire rimmed glasses walked into the room. "Oh, sorry to interrupt. I'm Dr. Waldo; I'll be taking care of you tonight. Can I ask you a few questions?"

"Samantha Lynn Parker, 28 years old, Tuesday, February…um 23...2010, allergic to penicillin," I rattled off the answers to his unasked typical ER questionnaire. "Did I miss anything?"

"Um…no, I think you've covered it. The paramedics said you were in need of some x-rays."

"So I've been told," I replied, leaving the comfort of Sherlock's sweet embrace and heaving myself back onto the stiff, small bed, the paper crinkling beneath me as I wiggled into a comfortable position. The elderly doctor lifted up the bottom of my shirt and leaned in to get a closer look at the yellow and darkened blotches that had surfaced on my skin.

"It's been a busy night," he said sitting back up to look at me. "It will take a while to get you into an x-ray room and it looks like you've had a long enough evening. I'll get someone in here with the portable shortly, they can stitch that gash up as well."

"Thanks, the quicker I can get into a warm bed the better."

"I'll be back once I take a look at your results."

"Are you sure you're not in pain Samantha," Sherlock said as soon as Dr. Waldo had shut the door.

"Like I said, I've been through worse."

"Hmmm…what is this talk of an x-ray? If I may ask?" he questioned, rubbing the scruff on his chin.

I couldn't help but laugh, I was surprised he had waited this long, but glad he was slowly returning to his usual ways.

"Welcome back Mr. Holmes," I grinned.

He glanced at me through heavy lashes, an arched eyebrow, and that awkward sideways smile.

"An x-ray," I continued. "Well…they are going to bring in a machine with…I guess you would call it a camera, and use it to take a picture of my ribs."

"But he already looked at them."

"Inside my body, it takes a picture of my bones, to see if they are broken or not."

"How fascinating!" There was a flicker of excitement behind his eyes. "And you can see this…picture quickly?"

"Yes, although, it takes awhile for anyone to get back to you."

"A camera that takes your picture on the inside…Watson would find that most interesting."

"Oh no, no, no, you can't tell him."

"What, why not?"

"He already knows way more than he should thanks to Hannah, it will be invented soon enough after you return home, he can wait."

"But surely-"

"Sherlock! He can wait no need to upset history over something he will come to learn about on his own."

"I suppose your right…but he would be intrigued by the idea."

"And he will, in time."

There was a knock on the door and in came a nurse dragging the large portable machine behind her.

"All right honey, Dr. Waldo said to get a look at your ribs and that you need some stitches." She pulled the machine into the room and shooed Sherlock out of the way. "C'mon now darlin' can't stitch her up if you're in my way, now can I?"

Sherlock nodded and came around to the other side of the bed.

"All right honey you ready?" She cleaned out the dirt and grime from my cut before spraying it with a numbing agent.

"Go ahead," I replied, turning my head as she pulled out the curved needle and blue thread. Sherlock watched with wide eyes as she passed the needle through my skin, shocked that I didn't even flinch.

"You act as if you didn't even feel anything," he whispered low into my ear, gaining a soft chuckle from the nurse.

"She numbed it, it doesn't hurt, but I don't care to watch, I've seen enough stitch jobs in my life."

"All right now dear," the nurse said slipping a wrap around my arm. "I need you to lie back on this pad so we can get those pictures." I pulled up my shirt and lied back, flinching as the cold material met my back.

"It's a little cold, sorry, think they should keep them in warm somehow," the nurse rambled as she adjusted the white box above my mid section. There were a few clicks, then she pulled the box away and motioned for me to sit up.

"All right honey, doc should be back shortly, take care now." She smiled, and began to shove the x-ray machine out the door, humming as she left.

I leaned back and let my eyes slip closed, I was in need of a good sleep. I wanted to be out of this hospital and back in our dumpy hotel room. Until then a short nap would do.

"It was an anesthetic then, that spray,"

I should have known he would go on just as I was starting to nod off.

"Yes," I mumbled, covering my eyes and rubbing my temples.

"Hmmm, and the effects were instantaneous."

"MmmmHmm."

"Watson has many things to look forward to indeed."

Dr. Waldo walked back in, holding a print out copy of my ribs. Sitting down on the rolling stool he toed his way over to the side of my bed.

"Well Ms. Parker, you lucked out. Three cracked, two on the left, one on the right, none broken. I'll wrap you up then you can be on your way."

I nodded in agreement and he proceeded to pull out a decent amount of dressing.

"Ok take a deep breath and exhale as much as possible for me." Dr. Waldo moved quickly from one side to the other, encasing my middle, then fastened me up with a few clips. "All right, you can take Motrin, up to twelve a day, or I can write you a script-"

"Motrin's fine," I cut in, there was no point in him giving me drugs that did the same damn thing, and I sure as hell didn't want to wait another hour at the local drug store.

"Well then, as soon as you sign your discharge papers you're free to go."

"Thanks."

Paperwork was nothing, most hospitals were the same, and I was more than happy to sign, date, and check off whatever was needed of me. I did, however, ask the nurse for a copy of my x-ray print out, Sherlock would enjoy looking over those. I was all patched up and ready to go. I called a cab from the lobby and we were walking through our dusty hotel room door within the hour.

Never in my mind did I think I would be so glad to be lying in a disgustingly dingy bed, with my head buried in a flat mildew scented pillow. I had managed to take a shower, and with Sherlock's help was all bandaged up and ready to actually sleep. I felt the itchy comforter being pulled up around me, followed by a soft touch, pushing the hair out of my face. I heard the chair by the window scrape the floor and a match being lit.

"You're not going to sleep? You need to sleep as much as I do Sherlock," I said while yawning, ignoring the pain it brought to my ribs.

"Perhaps, but there is something I'm still trying to figure out."

"If I tell you will you at least try to sleep?"

"I have yet to tell you what it is my dear." The sweet tobacco smell was taking over the room.

"All this trouble over a little box," I said nonchalantly, opening one eye to catch the expression on his face. He stopped puffing, and looked my way with raised eyebrows.

"So you do know about this box? How come you never mentioned it before?" He snuffed out his pipe and placed it on the windowsill.

"I had shut it out; it took a good amount of roughing up and a conversation with myself in the dark to even remember it." I pulled the blanket up higher covering my face to block out the light.

"And what did you remember exactly?"

"Are you going to sleep or not?" I asked ducking his question. There was a small amount of shuffling before the bed dipped beside me, followed by a tickle of scruff on my shoulder.

"I'll sleep if you answer me," he whispered into my ear, placing a kiss at the bottom of my hair line.

"You're not going to like my answer," I laughed. "And now that I got you here I'd hate for you to leave."

"I won't leave, I promise you that." Sherlock was gently rubbing the area below the gash on my arm.

"All right, I remember a box that my mom would occasionally have out before she read to me. She would slide it under the bed each time I came in, but no matter how many times I asked she wouldn't tell me what it was."

"Is that all," he asked.

"Of what I remember yes."

"You were right Samantha…that's not what I had hoped to hear."

"I said that was all I remembered, not all that I know," I smirked, turning my head to face him.

"Well in that case, please go on."

"The box is here, has been for some time."

"But where, not even your father knew anything about it."

"Where would you keep something of value to you Mr. Holmes, somewhere you knew it would be safe for long amounts of time, whether it be money…or in this case a box?"

"Are you suggesting it's at a bank Ms. Parker."

"Makes sense."

"But there are many banks here are there not?"

"Yes, but she left it hoping I would find it," I paused and sat up on my elbows, looking into those beautiful curious eyes. "Are you aware that there is a Baker Street right here in Atlanta?" the corners of his mouth twitched up slightly.

"And there is only one bank on Baker Street."

**A/N Go ahead, I give you full permission to throw things at me XD I promise, you'll find out what's in the box in the next chapter, and I'll do my best to have it up by the end of the week. Much thanks to Saichick for helping me with my box battle, you are simply amazing :p**


	32. Unlocked

**Unlocked**

Sherlock was quick to fall asleep after he had nestled his head into the crook of my neck, lightly draping an arm just above my hip. We had planned to pack everything in the car before heading to the bank in the morning to see what my mother had left for me. That must have been why she came back to begin with, perhaps that is why she wanted me to come and see her. Then there was Frank, why was he so interested to get his hands on it? What did he have to do with it?

_It would appear that mommy kept secrets from daddy, _my mind spoke up.

"We all have secrets," I whispered to the pestering voice that lingered in the back of my head.

_Ones that are worth dying for? Is that why mommy's six feet under now? _

"She knew she was living on borrowed time."

_Aren't we all?_

"No, not anymore."

"Samantha?" Sherlock's muffled and sleepy voice was hot on my neck.

"Hmmm?"

"Go to sleep Samantha," he said, placing a kiss on my shoulder. "You can argue with yourself in the morning."

There was a note on the night stand when I woke up, along with a few ibuprofen and a glass of water.

_**I thought it was best to allow you to sleep. I shall return shortly.**_

I swallowed down the pills and looked around the room. Everything was gone with the exception of a set of clothes and my shoes. He must have already loaded everything up, so where was he now?

I ran my fingers through my hair, threw it up in a messy bun, pulled on my fresh clothes, and found myself in the bathroom staring at the blood stained linoleum. Crouching down, I ghosted my fingers over the darkened pattern. Sure she had a grave site, but to me this would always be her tragic resting place.

_So what now Sam, you go back to your boring life of baking and fairy tales._

A small smile crept onto my face. "No, it won't be boring, not with him."

_But he'll leave, you'll make it back, and then he'll be gone._

"Physically yes."

_And you really think he'll come back to you._

"I don't think, I know."

"Know what my dear?" Sherlock's voice had startled me and I fell back on my ass, wincing as I hit the hard flooring. He hooked his hands under my arms from behind and helped me to my feet.

"It's nothing, I was just…never mind, it's not important," I brushed off my hands and turned to face him. "So where did you wander off to?"

"Just for a walk, thought I'd have a proper look around." He cocked his head slightly to the side and watched me with questioning eyes. "When did that start, exactly?"

"What?"

"Your new…conversational habit."

"Oh," I dropped my look to the floor, slightly embarrassed. "When we got here. It was quiet at first, but then down in that basement, it came back, taunting me, forcing me to dig deeper for answers. It helped me, so to speak. Perhaps I'm a little crazy after all."

Sherlock tilted my chin up to face him, his face full of warmth. "You're not mad Samantha, we all have our ways of reasoning and it seems that you have found yours." He leaned in and placed a soft kiss on my forehead. "We should be on our way."

There was a range of feelings running loose throughout my body. Nervousness, excitement, fear, hope.

Hope?

Hope for what?

I hadn't a clue, but it was there; and there was no hiding it from Sherlock.

"It's only a box dear," he said, as we walked into the bank.

"No, it is not just a box; I was almost killed for the damn thing."

"Yes, but whatever the contents, you're safe now. The things inside are now mere trinkets that your mother left behind."

Ever so slowly we made our way across the marble floor, my heart beating faster with each step. Sherlock gave me a nudge when I stopped just short of the counter.

"Go on then," he said quietly.

"What if it's not here? I could have been wrong," I whispered back to him.

"You don't believe that Samantha, besides the quicker you settle this matter, the quicker you can relax in the comfort of your own bed."

I nodded quickly, knowing he was right. What was I so worried about anyway, it wasn't like she was actually locked away in some sort of vault.

"Um…Hi," I stammered, placing my hands on the cold counter top.

"Good morning," the woman behind the counter answered, peering over her glasses.

"I'm looking for something, something my mother may have left for me. You see she died some time ago, and," I stopped, turning to my attention to Sherlock. "This is stupid; I sound like a babbling idiot."

"Name?" I heard the woman ask.

"What?" Turning my head to face her.

"What is her name?"

"Wait, so, people actually _do that?_"

"We get a few every now and then. But if you want my help you're going to have to give me her name honey."

"Sorry, Lenore, Lenore Parker." She went to work on her computer, fingers gliding over the keyboard with ease.

"You're Samantha?"

"Yes."

"Have some I.D?"

"Oh sure," I said rummaging through my jean pockets. "Here you go."

Her fingers went back to work.

"Let's see," she murmured. "Hmmm, looks like you need to talk to a branch manager. Come with me, it shouldn't take too long." She led us down a maze of hallways and cubicles, past vending machines and employee lounges, until we came to stop in front of a locked door with no windows and a keypunch on the door.

"I'll let him know you're here. Like I said, he should be along shortly."

"Well something is obviously here," Sherlock said, taking a seat at the table in the middle of the room.

"No shit." I sat across from him, drumming my hands impatiently against the table top. Time was passing so slowly, we had only been there fifteen minutes and it had already felt like several hours. A warm hand came to rest on top of mine, causing them to stop their fidgeting.

"Relax Samantha," he said in a calming tone.

Relax?

There was no way in hell I could relax; soon enough I would be face to face with something my mother was willing to die for. I was far from relaxed.

I could hear the numbers being pushed on the door lock. A tall bald man with dark eyes walked into the room holding a steel box, not the black one from my memories.

"Ms. Parker?" he said taking a seat at the head of the table.

"Yes that's me…but that is not the box I was expecting."

"No it's not," the man smiled. "What you want is inside this one, you're mother wanted to make sure it was secure, so we set her up with this. It requires a pass code of four symbols."

"Numbers or letters?" I asked.

"Her instructions were that you figure it out on your own, I was to give no clues."

"You actually dealt with her yourself?"

"Yes Ms. Parker, I was a mutual friend of your mothers and was deeply saddened by her passing. I was beginning to think you'd never come."

"It's not like I had a road map," I uttered under my breath.

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing."

"Right… I need a code Samantha."

I searched my brain for all it was worth, thinking of anything that could be of importance.

I started with her birthday, "0512"

"No"

Anniversary, "1028"

"No"

Her initials "L.E.A.P"

"No"

Dad's birthday, "0610"

"No"

I went on and on, mine and Stephen's birth dates, house numbers, words that might have had some sort of meaning behind them. I was all out of answers. My head landed on the table with a small thud. Sherlock smirked across from me. Rolling my head to the side, I glanced up at him.

"I don't see how this is funny," I mumbled.

"You're looking, but you do not see, the answer is right in front of you Samantha, in a way it always has been."

"What? What are you talking about? The only thing I see in front of me is you."

"Exactly," he grinned "And I have always had some sort of place in your life, your mother knew that."

"What's your point?" I asked, sitting up in my chair. I was not in the mood to try to figure out what had the gears in his head turning.

"Try three numbers," he paused, leaning over so he was only inches away from me. "And a letter."

"What? Three numbers and a….oh…no way. Really? You think?"

He nodded once, leaning back, looking smug in his seat. It was such an obvious answer, one I should have thought of from the start.

"Ms. Parker? Would you like to try again?" the manager asked.

"221B."

He began to push the buttons on the keypad; an audible click was heard as soon as he was done.

"Congratulations Ms. Parker," he smiled lifting out the small black box and placing it in front of me. "I'll leave you alone now. The box is yours. I trust you can make your way back out."

I nodded, not able to find words to speak.

"Good. It was nice to meet you Samantha, I wish you the best."

I nodded again, running my hands along the hard edges, placing my thumbs beneath the snaps. The branch manager smiled once more before exiting the room.

"It's not going to open itself Samantha," Sherlock uttered, dragging his chair next to me.

I continued to stare, moving my thumbs up and down the length of the box.

"Well dear, if you're not going to do it," he said, attempting to remove it from my hold.

"NO!" I exclaimed, pulling it towards my body, grasping it tightly. "I'll do it." Hooking my thumbs under the latches once more, I pulled them out of their place with a loud _snap. _

There was a folded sheet of paper, lying top of a blue cloth, with my name printed on it. Taking a deep breath, I unfolded the note.

_**Hello my sweet little Samantha,**_

_**I realize that you are no longer little, but I suppose in the back of my mind I will always see you as my little girl. Happy, innocent, and full of life. Things must have been so confusing for you, and for that I am sorry. It was never my intentions to leave you with your grandmother, but if you are reading this I can assume that one: you already know why I left, and two: I have undoubtedly passed on. I have put this box together so I could leave you with a few things I hold near and dear to my heart. Unfortunately things have started to go wrong. **_

_**You are probably also aware of one Frank Orsini, drug dealer extraordinaire, as well as my former employer. I never should have gotten involved, but a young girl will do things when she is at a sudden loss of income, with no where to go. Then again I would have never met your father and would have never been blessed with you and Stephen, so for that I am grateful. Frank also had a thing for rare jewels, Tanzanite had been his newest passion, and on occasion, it was I that was sent out to make exchanges. He trusted me to a degree, I guess you could say I had become his pet, therefore I was treated slightly better than the other girls, but I still needed to get out of there. He set me up for a job involving him receiving a 23.6 karat Tanzanite stone, valued a little over ten grand. Your father and I saw it as a way out; we made the exchange, and then took off, knowing they wouldn't ever be far behind us. We had hoped it would have been enough to get us out of the country, get as far away as possible, but in the end it turned out it was a fake, a very good one at that. Frank and his crew of goons have been after us ever since, never knowing the rock he was perusing was a dud. In this time I had also began keeping track of his activities, hoping to build enough evidence against him so we could one day live out our days as a family, settled down in a proper home. **_

_**Then you and Stephen came along, somehow we managed to stay hidden for quite some time, but then they started to get close again and we just couldn't bear to bring you two into a life on the run. So we left, we left and have been running ever since. My time is running short, I'm afraid I've gotten too close, and this box, this little box is all that will be left of me. I'll attempt to see you, tell you about it myself, but if not, well, you've always been a smart girl, you'll figure it out, you always do. **_

_**All my love,**_

_**Mom**_

Something inside of me was thoroughly pissed that I had been put through the ringer for nothing. My father had died, for some god forsaken rock that was absolutely worthless. But how could I be mad? What little time I had with her would be happily remembered, and even now, she was still speaking to me.

I pulled out the cloth, revealing the contents beneath.

Low and behold there it was in all its fake glory. I couldn't believe it; she actually left me the stupid thing, big and blue, bouncing little beams of light across the room.

"What on earth?" Sherlock leaned in to get a better look.

"It's a fake," I said, handing him the letter, before looking to see what else was my small treasure chest.

"Well," he laughed. "What else was she supposed to do with it?"

"Throw it in the ocean maybe," I deadpanned.

"For what purpose?"

"Never mind," I shook my head. "There's more."

Newspaper clippings, following suspected drug runs, a small note book with a list of times and dates, all of them long gone.

There was also a small black velvet box, containing their wedding bands. My mother's, a rose gold band with intricate swirls cut in and my father's, in white gold, with the same matching pattern. But there was something down at the bottom, wrapped in white tissue paper that caught my eye, bringing a smile to my face. I pulled out a small worn paperback book, filled with dog-eared yellow pages. I could almost feel the light wind in my hair, hear the rolling waves, and even smell the sweet sea breeze. Many lazy days were spent sitting beside my mother's side as she read to me; and that was a memory I wouldn't trade for anything in the world.

"Look," I grinned, pushing the book over to Sherlock.

"Is that supposed to be-?"

"MmmHmm."

"Ridiculous, that looks nothing like me."

"That's all right, I prefer the tangible version anyhow," I whispered leaning over and placing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "Now…it's about time I went home." I started to put the items back into their rightful place.

"Well my dear, now that everything's settled, are you feeling any better?" Sherlock asked.

"I will, as soon as I'm back in my shop. Nothing says welcome home like a fresh batch of baked goods and a few good burns," I laughed.

Sherlock picked up the book and handed it over to be placed inside the box. There was a small chiming sound as something fell out and onto the floor.

"What was that?" I asked, stepping back to search for what had made the noise.

"It appears," he began, crouching down and reaching beneath the table. "To be a key."

Taking it from him, I spun it between my fingers, I'd recognize that funny shaped key any day. I closed my eyes smiled as a tear escaped the corner of my eye.

"Do you know what it's for Samantha?"

I nodded, chewing on my bottom lip. "It's for the beach house," I said quietly. "She left me the beach house."

**A/N Much apologies for any horribly bad grammar mistakes, I just wanted to get it up before bed, and it is way past my bed time, I'll comb it over when I wake up :p I tried to keep it light, these two deserve a break from all that drama anyway. The next will probably be the last, making me quite sad****…All should be fixed now, if not feel free to message me!**


	33. A Dream Within A Dream

**A Dream Within A Dream**

"Beach house?" Sherlock asked. "The one you grew up in?"

"Yea, I figured it was sold after they left. I wonder if gram even knew," I said, smiling as I twirled the long brass key between my fingers. That house meant the world to me; so many pleasant memories lived within their aging walls. I tucked the key into my pocket and the box under my arm.

"We better go. I'll call Hannah from the airport; let her know we'll need to be picked up in a few hours."

The plane ride back was much quieter than the first. Maybe because it was less crowded, or maybe it was because both were lost in our own thoughts, whatever the reason we traveled in a comforting quietness, although there were no words, there were subtle touches and gentle caresses, between his fingers lightly tracing lines on the back of my hand and the way he would just tilt his head back and look at me with soft welcoming eyes, we didn't need words. We were both thinking of the same thing deep down, there was an inevitable goodbye in our futures, a goodbye neither of us wanted to face. We had tuned out the world around us, just happy to be in each others company.

"SAM…SAMMY!" Hannah's small body was jumping up and down, waving her arms over her head as we exited the concourse. Every - so - often I would catch a glance of her head popping up above the crowd. I snickered a little, her over the top personality made up for her size a million times over. She threw her arms around me as we made our way through the crowd, shooting pain throughout my damaged ribs.

"Ahhh! Take it easy Hannah, I've come back as damaged goods," I grimaced, thankful for her quick release. Turning to Sherlock, Hannah made a move to give him his own welcome home hug. He quickly put his hands up in front of him, shaking his head.

"None of that, thank you," he said just as fast. I had to fight the urge to laugh. Hannah merely shrugged and returned to my side.

"So what happened Sam? Did you find out anything about your mom? Why didn't you call until today? Have you talked to Stephen? What the hell happened to you?" she rattled on, remembering my reaction to her squeeze and noticing the wrap around my arm. She shot a glaring look to Sherlock. "Is this your fault? What did you do?"

Sherlock looked at me with wide questioning eyes.

"I assure you madam I did not directly cause Samantha's injuries," he answered carefully.

"Well what exactly did you do then?" she barked out, stepping directly in front of him, hands on her hips, brows furrowed.

"Well…I…um…I," he stammered, unsure how to give her an answer that would only fuel her anger.

"I'll explain everything later," I said stepping between the two, looping my arms through theirs. "Right now I want to get home. Where's John by the way?"

"I sent him back two days ago, not knowing how long you were going to be, we didn't want to worry Mrs. Hudson any longer than we needed to."

I was glad to see my little bug sitting in the parking lot, sure my rental had been a nice change, but I had a sweet spot for my rusty little buddy. I opted for the front seat, leaving the back bench for Sherlock to stretch out on if need be.

"So you gonna tell me?" Hannah asked the moment we pulled out onto the interstate.

"Later."

"C'mon Sam, I've been eagerly waiting with baited breath," she exaggerated, placing a hand over her chest.

I rolled my eyes and sighed. "Well," I began. "In a nutshell, mom was murdered, it wasn't dad, turns out dad was working with the feds, and still alive-"

"Your dad is alive!"

"Well…he was…mom left me something, the people behind moms murder thought it was something big, I got kidnapped, a little beaten up, shot at, watched my father die…again, and mom left me the beach house."

"THEY SHOT YOU!" Hannah shouted, jerking the wheel slightly as she snapped her head in my direction.

"Watch the road!"

"Were you expecting an alternate reaction my dear?" Sherlock muttered from the back seat.

"No, that's why I wanted to wait," I groaned. "Yes I was shot at, but as you can see I'm fine," I assured her.

"You should have called Sam," Hannah quietly said.

"Why? So you could have sat at home and worried?" I smirked. "I'll fill in all the details tomorrow, let's just get home."

We dropped Hannah off at her place and after saying goodbye and promising her I would tell her everything over breakfast at my apartment the next morning, I climbed into the driver's seat, surprised to see Sherlock already sitting beside me.

Leaning my head back against the head rest I closed my eyes and let out a puff of air.

"I'd very much like to see your childhood home Samantha," Sherlock said after a moment, squeezing my hand gently.

"I thought you'd might," I grinned, running my thumb over the back of his hand. "Let's hope it's still furnished."

It looked the same as it did eighteen years ago and oddly enough the lawn was even cut. It stood on two stories, octagon shaped with a log cabin build, with enough bay windows along the top to give you a view of the ocean from almost every room. The large stair case peeking out the back with a ramp leading down into the sand dunes, I chuckled as I pictured Stephen and I as kids running down to greet the warm summer waters. Sherlock stepped out the car and inhaled deeply, the corners of his mouth turning up as he looked across the roof of the car to me.

"There's nothing like it," I said, crossing over to his side. "That fresh sea breeze. I used to sleep with the windows open at night, drove my parents crazy." I reached down and took his hand in mine. "Let's go inside," I grinned, pulling him down the coquina stepping stones that led to the front door. I slid the key into the lock, my heartbeat picking up slightly as I heard the _clic_k, welcoming me home.

The inside had been kept up too, mom obviously told somebody to keep watch over the house. That same god awful wallpaper, cream colored with mauve tulips, the couches were just as bad. Wooden framed with that infamous eighties floral print, why my parents felt the need to cover the house in tacky colored flowers I would never know. I reached for the light switch beside the door, not surprised when nothing happened.

"There should be some candle's in the kitchen," I said, thankful that it was still light out. The kitchen was one of the few rooms in the house that lacked the tacky flower décor. Just your average kitchen, a fridge, a stove, cabinet lined walls, and in the far corner sat two small wooden step stools.

"Look at this," I smiled, picking it up off the floor and handing it to Sherlock. The small stool had two bears painted on either side, with _Samantha_ written across the middle. "Broke my first bone falling off that stool."

"Perhaps we should burn it then, it just might change your luck," He chuckled.

"I think it's a little late for that," I laughed, pulling out a few pillar candles from the bottom drawer beside the fridge.

Sherlock eyed the pictures on the wall as we headed up the stairs, smirking at the amount of photos that featured me either in the hospital or with some sort of cast.

"I'm glad you find my misfortunes amusing Sherlock."

"I'm sure you were an ambitious child Samantha," he grabbed my hand, "Perhaps a little too ambitious," he smirked before scooping me up, causing me to let out a small shriek.

"What do you think your doing Holmes!" I giggled, quickly wrapping my arms around his neck, playing with the hair near the top of his neck.

"I wouldn't want your feet to get in the way dear," he grinned, continuing up the stairway. "Now which room is yours?"

"Down the hall, last door on the left."

The door was open, pale pink painted walls, teddy bears and other stuffed things scattered across the day bed. My small bookshelf stuffed with Nancy Drew, A.A. Milne, Goosebumps, Babysitters Club, Encyclopedia Brown, and just about every other popular book from my elementary school years. A pair of French doors opened up to a small balcony. Sherlock set me down and wandered around the room, tinkering with the small knick-knacks that sat upon my childhood dresser. Walking over to the French doors, I pulled them open, allowing the cold sea breeze sweep into the room. The sky was glowing various shades of reds and yellows, as a result of the setting sun behind us. I let my eyes slip closed and leaned against the railing, the rolling waves washing away my tragic memories, allowing the wonderful ones to surface. I could have stayed out her for an eternity, just listening to the calming noise of the ocean, the rustle of the sea grass in the sand dunes, I was finally home.

I heard the strike of a match and noticed the shadows of the flickering flames dance around the walls. Minutes later I felt Sherlock's arms wrap around me from behind, his head nuzzling my neck, pressing gently kisses down my neck and onto my shoulder. I placed my arms over his rubbing them softly. His breath was hot on my skin and I trembled as he reached the sweet spot just below my ear, both his stubble and mouth sending chills throughout my entire body.

"You're shivering Samantha," he whispered huskily before nibbling on my earlobe. "Are you cold darling?"

"No," I whimpered, breathing deeply, tightening my grip on his arms.

"Mmmm, I thought not," he said, pushing my hair out of the way and moving to the other side of my neck, teasing me with his sensual kisses, his gentle nips and licks causing my breath to hitch and whimper even more, slowly pushing me over the edge. Sherlock pushed me further into the rail, pressing his body against mine allowing me to feel every inch of him; I inhaled sharply.

"How are your ribs Samantha? Did I hurt you? Shall I stop?" he asked between kisses.

"No."

His hand slipped under my shirt, moving up and over my bra.

"God no, don't stop Sherlock," I breathed, reaching back and entwining my fingers in his hair. I turned in his arms, happy to see those dark hungry eyes burning into mine. Leaning down he claimed my lips with his own, gingerly gliding his tongue over mine. I began to fumble with the buttons on his shirt, running my hands down his warm chest and up his back, pulling him into me, he responded with a low groan, his own hands fumbling with the hem of my shirt, pulling it up and over my head. Running his hands down to my waist, he knelt down and began to undo the wrapping over my middle, gently kissing the yellow and purple bruising as it became exposed. He undid the button of my jeans, and slid them down slowly, his hands brushing my skin as he reached the bottom. Sherlock stood and took my hands, leading me back inside towards the bed. Sliding his shirt off his back I let my hands dip below the waistband of his pants as his lips came back down on mine. He kissed down my neck, reaching around and unhooking my bra, trailing kisses down my breasts as I unfastened his belt and let his pants fall to the ground. I moved up further on the bed and he lied back on my elbows as he crawled overtop of me.

"Promise me you'll tell me if I cause you pain Samantha," he whispered, brushing the hair from my face, caressing my face with his thumb.

"I'm fine Sherlock, honest, it's amazing what an ass load of Motrin can do," I grinned, lying back and trailing my fingers down the length of his body.

"Promise me," he gently lowered him self and whispered hotly in my ear.

"I promise."

I let out a soft cry as he pushed into me, making sure to move slow, not putting any extra pressure than necessary. We moved together in perfect harmony, letting the fire build up deep inside, keeping our eyes locked on to each other. Together we reached our peak, he groaned, letting out a few shaky breaths, collapsing on the bed in the space next to me. I rolled over on my side, pushing the hair from his face, leaving a lingering kiss on his lips.

"I think I love you Mr. Holmes," I whispered, resting a hand on his heaving chest.

"I believe the feeling is mutual Ms. Parker," he replied with warm eyes and a sweet smile, pressing a kiss to my forehead before folding me into his arms, pulling the covers up around us both.

The sun cast bright beams into the room, rousing me from my sleep. The doors were still open, the crashing waves were now joined with the calls of seagulls and people walking their dogs, but my bed was empty.

Cold and empty.

"Sherlock?" I called out, pulling on my shirt and roaming down the stairs.

"Sherlock, where did yo-" I stopped dead in my tracks. On the table in the living room sat a sheet of paper with his pipe laying on top, nerve racking chills trailed down my spine. Tip-toeing over to the table, I slid the paper out.

_**Take this kiss upon the brow! **_

_**And, in parting from you now, **_

_**Thus much let me avow- **_

_**You are not wrong, who deem **_

_**That my days have been a dream; **_

_**Yet if hope has flown away In a night, or in a day, **_

_**In a vision, or in none, **_

_**Is it therefore the less gone?**_

_**All that we see or seem **_

_**Is but a dream within a dream.**_

_**I can not apologize enough darling, but I could not bear to see the sorrow in your face when I left, and thought it best to leave before you woke. You will constantly be in my thoughts, for no one has ever made me feel complete before now. **_

_**Until I see you again my sweet Samantha.**_

Tears streamed freely from the corners of my eyes as I slid to the floor, leaning against the couch. I knew he would return, someday, but it didn't hurt any less knowing I had no clue when I would see him again.

**A/N Okay, so I've been fighting a battle with the L word, since I know it wouldn't come from Holmes' mouth, and Samantha seems like she wouldn't be one to toss it around either. So I think I managed to pull it off with out it sounding OOC for either of them. Hope you enjoyed that LEMONADE! My cheeks are all red now! Thanks for sticking with me so long, Epilogue will be up very quickly.**


	34. Plans for the Past

**Epilogue**

**Plan's for the Past**

By the time I had returned to my apartment above the bakery I was down right pissed. How the hell did he think this was any easier? Okay, maybe I didn't want to see him leave, but a goodbye would have been nice. Hannah was sitting beside my door when I reached the top of the stairs.

"Hey Sam! Whatcha' want for breakfast? You guys stay at the beach house? Does it still look the same?"

"Morning Hannah," I mumbled, pushing the key into the lock and letting the door swing open.

"You alright," she asked, following me inside. "Hey where's Sherlock?"

"Where do you think?" I barked out, throwing myself down on the couch.

"Oh no Sammy, he didn't!"

"Oh yes, he did. Left behind his pipe and the first half of a Poe poem, granted it was the sweet half, but still!" I complained, my elbows on my knees and my head in my hands. "I should have known, things were so perfect, and then…poof…he's gone. Who knows when I'll see him again."

"I'm getting married Sam," Hannah said, sitting down beside me.

"Yes, I'm well aware of that, hope you and John have a splendid life. Now if you' excuse me." I went to stand, only to be stopped by Hannah's hand on my knee.

"You have to be my maid of honor Sam; I don't have anyone else but you."

"Do we have to talk about this now, I'm not in the mood to discuss happily ever after," I groaned.

"Yes, now do I really have to ask? Because I'd really love my best friend to be standing there with me."

"Yes you Goof, of course I'll do it," I sighed. "Where do I need to get fitted, in town, or did you want to take a trip to Jacksonville."

"Oh no," she giggled with a shit eating grin plastered on her face. "Mrs. Hudson just happens to know a pristine dress maker."

"Good…wait Mrs. Hudson! Oh hell no. No, no, no, no, no! Hannah! Are you nuts! I can't go back there! What about the shop? What about Stephen? What about, what about…"

"What about what Sam? What about the one person who would give anything to see you stroll through his door. The man who has given up years of his life for you! It seems to me like you''re being a tad selfish! Besides, Stephen already agreed to take care of the shop, it's not like he has a real job or anything."

"You asked him?" I moaned, pulling at my hair.

"Yep! And he agrees with me, you're much nicer when you're happy."

"Oh shut up!"

"See what I mean," Hannah chuckled.

"You're lucky I like you so damn much." I mumbled, standing from the couch and walking to my room, slamming the door behind me.

"So your coming right Sam?…Sammy? Are you coming or not!"

Burying my head deep inside my fluffy pink pig I let out a frustrated yell.

Looks like that devious Sherlock Holmes would end up getting his way after all.

**A/N Thank you SO much, for sticking it out with me until the end! You guys have been really great. I'll try to get the sequel going as quickly as possible, so be on the look out. It doesn't have a title at the moment, so just check my profile or add me to your author list. I can't believe I actually finished, I'm kind of sad. Big love to each and every one of you who added this to their favs and left me such lovely reviews, they really made this a whole lot easier. **

**Until round two,**

**Shelly**


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